#WAS IN JEST ALL TEA IS GOOD TEA | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

calypsocolada · 4 months

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how the jjk boys react to being jealous...ft. itadori, megumi, gojo, nanami, & takuma

authors note: MERRY CHRISTMAS

cw: slightly suggestive, angst, healthy jealousy

wc: 3.6k

Itadori doesn’t really get jealous much but when he does he’s pouty. He’s late for a date one night and when he opens the door to your favorite restaurant he spots you in the corner. You’re smiling and laughing at something the waiter had said. Itadori felt a pang of jealousy in his chest. He was just about the only one who could make you laugh like that and he didn’t like some random guy trying to take his place. Your eyes meet Itadori and they light up. The waiter looks back, a bit flustered when he spots the sour faced Itadori.

“I’ll get those drinks in for ya.” He says and walks away rather fast. Itadori leans over the table and kisses your cheek as he slides into the booth across from you.

“Sorry I was late,” he starts as you smile.

“Everything okay?” You ask, your infinite kindness speaking. He nods his head.

“Christmas traffic.” He shrugs as you nod your head in understanding.

He obviously didn’t want to say but he was out getting you a present. He didn’t fancy himself good with gift giving but he had an idea late last night and was hunting around for the item all morning. He finally found it then realized he was gonna be late.

“I’m glad I got all that crap done early.” You said as he reached for your hand, pulling your knuckles to his lips to press a kiss. The waiter comes back and sets the drinks down on the table and Itadori can’t hide the look on his face when the waiter smiles down at you. He pouts a bit when you smile back. He knows you’re being polite and he also knows he’s being pouty. He can’t help it. You’re a lot of things Itadori likes. You’re kind and caring, funny and smart. He likes the way you think and your attention to detail. He’s lost a lot of people he loves and lately the way he thinks about them has changed. He’s become over protective but he can’t help it. He can’t lose anyone else.

“Yuji?” Your voice breaks through to him, he was lost in thought. He blinks, clearing his throat. He tells the waiter his order and watches as the man shoots another one last flirty look at you before leaving. You hadn’t even given the waiter the attention he wanted. Instead you were reaching across the table for Itadori’s hands. “You sure you’re okay?” You ask and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I think the waiter has a crush.” He says and you start to laugh.

“Yeah I noticed that. I’m glad you got here when you did.” You say and he calms. He knows you’re not the type who would cheat, that's not really where his jealousy was stemming from. It was just the fact that he liked being the one to make you happy and didn’t trust strangers. He gives you a soft smile and you cock your head slightly. “Wait…” you trail off and when he looks at you you have a smirk on your lips. “Are you jealous, Yuji?” You ask and Itadori shakes his head.

“I- Of course not! I just- I noticed he was a little smiley that’s all.” He stutters out as you raise a brow, slowly nodding your head.

“Uh huh.” You jest, hiding a giggle behind your hand.

“Okay fine. Yes a little,” he relents as you nod along with his words.

“That’s cute.” You say and he gets up, sliding into your booth. It was all very smooth.

“No I’m not,” he says, pink cheeked as he presses a kiss to your lips.

Megumi is very protective, and gets jealous pretty easily. He doesn’t open up to many people and so when you cracked him wide open with your kindness and patience he didn’t know what to do. He also didn’t know what to do when you became good friends with Todo. That freaked him right out. You two were polar opposites but he’d see you across campus with that giant idiot drinking tea or laughing together. That made him sick to his stomach with jealousy. Nobara and Itadori are sick of hearing about it. They’ve told him time and time again to just ask you out but he couldn’t. He couldn’t just ask you out, it had to be special. He had to know you felt the same, he didn’t want to embarrass you or make things awkward.

So instead he got stuck in a cycle. Of hanging out with you and blushing and crushing and being crushed when he’d see you giggling with Todo the next day.

After about three weeks of this cycle Megumi couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t think of you being with someone else. He wanted you so bad it was messing him up inside and out. He saw you across the courtyard one day and suddenly his feet were taking him to you. Todo was first to look up. He gave him a sharp look. Todo didn’t like him very well for stupid reasons Megumi didn’t care to think about anymore. You turned once you saw Todo’s face. Your face lit up, a smile overtaking your lips.

“Fushiguro,” You crooned, “Want to join us?” You asked. Megumi cleared his throat.

“Can we talk?” He asked and your brows raised slightly as you nodded your head. You excused yourself and jogged to catch up with Megumi who had wandered off a few feet away.

“Is everything okay?” You asked as you caught up with him. He had his head down, his hands stuffed inside his pocket, he looked almost nervous.

“Uh yeah, everything’s fine.” He mumbled quickly. He couldn’t look at you, he was so damn nervous. “I just- I was wondering,” he cleared his throat again. “Are you and Todo- uh, together?” For a moment you stared at him, processing his words.

“Together?” You echoed and he finally met your eyes. He was blushing, cheeks rosy red. And that’s when it all clicked together for you. The red cheeks, the hopeful look. You sucked in a breath. “Oh, Fushiguro.” You said and then couldn’t help but let a small laugh escape your lips. He looked tortured. “Are you jealous?” You asked and his eyes widened.

“What- of course not! I was just- I was asking.” He said all in one breath. You smiled up at him, his hair was a mess from him nervously running his hands through it. You reach up and run your fingers through it to smooth it out. He froze under your touch, like a deer in headlights.

“Todo and I are friends. In fact he’s like a brother.” You said but your words did nothing to ease his thumping heart. He was still nervous and the fact there was no romantic connection between you and Todo meant something that made his hands shake slightly.

“Oh, okay- that’s yeah- that’s good.” He stuttered. You smiled at his words.

“That’s good, huh?” You asked with a sly smile. He swallowed as he nodded his head. “Why’s that, Fushiguro?” Seeing him like this was a treat. Megumi was always very put together. Very stoic and calm. But right now you were making a mess of him in this courtyard.

“I just- well,” He scratched at the back of his head. “Todo’s not right for you. That’s why. I was just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me, huh,” You smirked, you reached for his hands, he was trembling slightly. “That’s awful kind of you.” You say as your warm fingers meet his cold ones. “And what would be right for me?”

“Hmm?” He barely mumbled out, eyes locked to your hands on his.

“You said Todo’s not right for me, so what would be right?” You ask, thumb tracing circles in his palm. You were being very distracting on purpose. You liked Megumi and Todo had recently been coaching you on how to possibly get Megumi to confess. Most of his pointers were very direct so you took a few and decided to be sly.

“You need someone smart,” he starts out, it makes you laugh.

“Todo’s very smart.” You say and Megumi makes a face that makes you giggle. “Alright, so someone smart.”

“Uh huh, and patient,” he adds. You nod. “Someone who’s not a meathead.”

“You sound a bit judgmental, Fushiguro.” You jest, your teasing must’ve calmed the situation down because Megumi looked less nervous. His fingers interlock with yours, shocking you slightly.

“I am judgmental, I want the best for you.” He says and your heart skips a much needed beat. It was your turn to be nervous this time. “Todo’s not the best.“

“Then who is?” You ask and he looks at you with those pretty eyes.

“I am.” He says and something shifts in the air when he steps closer.

“Fushiguro,” you start, as his hand slides against your cheek, fingers brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Don’t you agree?” He asks huskily.

Gojo is the worst. He’s more jealous than any man you’ve ever known. A waiter will bring your food and smile, Gojo a moment later will say, “Your boyfriend is so nice.” Always stuff like that.

So one day you decide to play into it. Gojo has always been a little jealous of you and Nanami’s friendship. You two met in school, you couldn’t stand Gojo back then, you hung out with Nanami and Haibara.

You got early to a Jujutsu High meeting and instead of saving a seat for Gojo you sat beside Nanami. Gojo got there late and when you turned his eyes met yours and you just gave him a sly wink. After the meeting you hugged Nanami goodbye and walked over to your boyfriend. You could tell he was annoyed, you gave him a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek.

“That meeting ran long.”

“It sure did,” He pouted, following you out to the parking lot. “It would've gone faster if you had saved me a seat.”

“How would that make it go faster, Satoru?” He grabs you by the wrist, pulling you out of the hall and into a dark back room.

“We could’ve slipped away,” he whispers against your neck before pressing a kiss there. “Instead you chose to sit next to stuffy.” He trails kisses up your neck to your lips and presses his body against yours, pinning you to the door.

“That’s not nice.” You say slightly out of breath.

“That’s why I said it,” he mumbles against your lips.

Nanami sat straightening himself at his desk. He took in a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. The deadline was creeping closer and closer and god dammit he couldn’t get ahead of this thing. He’d been working on this damn project for hours now. He reached up and loosened his tie, nearly taking it off. There's a soft knock on the door and you peek your head in.

“Sir, can I interrupt?” You asked and he looked up, he could feel his stress depleting just at the sight of you.

“Yes, of course.” He waves you in. You shoulder softly inside, a tray in your hands. You give him a soft smile as you set it down on his desk.

“I brought you your favorite sandwich, Sir, and some hot tea.” You say and Nanami can’t help but give you the smallest of smiles.

“You are an angel.” he says, pushing his keyboard out of the way. You go to slip out of his office. “Wait.” He asks, you stop turning back to him. He cuts his sandwich in half. “Have you eaten?” He asks as you glance at the sandwich then back to him, shaking your head. “Sit with me,” He offers. You walk across the room and sit opposite of him. He slides half a sandwich over to you and you smile at him.

“Thank you sir.” You say.

“Please, you can call me Nanami.” He says he's told you this a few times but he is your boss after all. You nodded your head, soft apologizing as you bit into your sandwich.

“Nanami,” There was another knock at the door. Nanami’s boss walked inside as you straightened. “How’s the project going?” He asked, his eagle eyes skimming along the curves of your body before looking at Nanami. Nanami saw the whole thing, saw the clammy uncomfortable look on your face. Nanami didn’t know this but the higher up boss was quite the ass, he constantly hit on you, never remembered your name and also never looked you in the eyes, he was always too busy checking you out.

“It’s going.” Nanami answered shortly. The boss walked a few steps in, cocking his head to the side.

“Take a break there, sweetheart?” He asked you as you went red, instantly embarrassed.

“Y/n, her name is Y/n. And I asked her to since she’s working overtime with me.” Nanami says coolly. The boss raises his brows, looking between the pair.

“Well don’t work her too hard there, Nanami.” He says, winking to you before exiting the room. You turn back but your appetite has gone slightly.

“Does he talk like that to you often?” He asks as you look down at your hands.

“It’s okay,” You say.

“It’s really not.” He says softly. You look up and meet his kind eyes. Usually when you went to HR about things like that you were ignored. You need the money and you liked working here, especially working for Nanami. He had a trusting deposition about him. You swallowed dryly.

“Yes, he talks like that to me all the time. It’s-- it’s not a big deal, I can put up with it.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply, taking a sip of his tea.

“You’ll take care of it?” You ask as he gives you a nod.

“You don’t have to put up with anything, you're not some pretty thing for him to ogle.” He says and meets your eyes. You wonder if Nanami thought you were pretty before your mind realized how silly you were being. You cleared your throat.

“Thank you very much, Sir-- Nanami.” You said.

Nanami did take care of things. In fact you never saw that ignorant boss ever again. You also accidentally ran into him outside of work a few days after the big boss was fired. You waved at him, from across the bar. You didn’t know if it was inappropriate to share a drink outside of work but Nanami waved you over.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” You said. “I just wanted to thank you for taking my side.”

“You're not interrupting.” He says, his voice warm like cinnamon whiskey in your stomach, something fluttering at the way he looks down at you. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

“You couldn’t have.” You say. “All that matters is he’s gone.” You say and he nods his head, raising a glass to that. You and Nanami spend the entire night talking and when it’s time for the last call he buys you one last drink and you two leave. He walks you back to your house and drapes his jacket over your shoulders, you two talk the entire way there. You get to your door and unlock it, holding it open. “Want to come in, warm up a bit? I could make some coffee?” You ask. Nanami leans on the door, he looks behind you like he is contemplating the pros and cons of coming into your house past midnight. You think for a second he’ll turn you down but then he pushes off the doorframe and nods his head. He brushes past you as you shut the door behind him. You fix him coffee and stay up talking with him until the sun starts to rise. You laugh when he gasps at his watch.

“Fuck,” He groans. “I have to work in forty-five minutes.” He pushes up from the table.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry.” You apologize, springing up from the table. “I can give you a ride.”

“You stay home, take the day off.” He says, reaching for his jacket.

“I can’t do that to you.” You say, reaching for your own coat but he catches you by the wrist, the contact shooting through your body.

“I want you to.” He says softly, your eyes locking. You can’t help it, you spent the night trying not to stare at his lips, trying to be very professional but dammit you weren’t perfect. Your eyes dipped to his lips as you cleared your throat.

“Maybe you should take the day off too.” You say and Nanami looks down at you with those searching eyes. You're standing right by the front door, the hallway never felt smaller between the two of you.

“And do what?” He asked, his voice husky. Your throat went dry.

“Well, you're already here so maybe have some breakfast.” You say, taking a half step closer to him.

“Thought you said you couldn’t cook?” He asked teasingly, taking a step closer to you.

“Eggs and bacon are fairly easy.” You whisper and reach across the small space to straighten his tie. His eyes follow your hands.

“It's hard to mess them up.” He whispers back, hands slowly sliding onto your waist, fingers dipping into your hips. You try very hard to hide your smirk.

“I could use some help,” You say, letting your fingers slide off his tie and around the back of his neck.

“Thank god I’m here then.” He says and dips his head down, you tilt your head and your lips meet.

You rushed forwards, shouldering through hospital doors. You race around the corner and scan the door numbers, searching for thirteen. You spot it at the end of the hall and pick up speed, tears pricking at the sides of your eyes as your hand meets the cold steel of the door handle. You wrench it open, you see Nanami first, he stands, hands in his pockets. You brush right past him and see Takuma. He’s sat up in the bed, awake, despite what the doctors told you on the phone. He has bandages across his torso and two cuts on his face. Fresh tears spring to your eyes as you rush to the bed and he opens his arms for you to fall into.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against the top of your head. He knows he scared you, that's why he’s apologizing. You knew nothing about the Jujutsu world, only bits that Takuma had told you, which is few and far between and also just really out of reach to understand. The only thing you did know was that Takuma came from most of his missions badly roughed up. You hated his job, it scared you shitless everytime he was gone and your phone would ring. You knew a lot of those sorcerers didn’t make it home after missions.

You sniffed, as Takuma wiped the tears from your face gently. This happens every time.

“I’m alright, I’m right here.” He spoke softly to you. A sort of mantra that calms you down. You pushed up slightly and pressed a kiss to his lips, your finger tracing a new scar down the side of his face. You turned to Nanami.

“Can we have a moment?” You asked and the blond man nodded his head, leaving the room.

“Honey,”

“Ino, I told you. I told you how much I hated this job of yours.” You start. “Do you know how fucking scared I was driving over here?” You were crying again, Takuma pulled you back into his chest.

“I know,” He sounded so guilty, so apologetic. “I told Nanami to let me call you, so you wouldn’t worry.” He said, kissing the top of your head.

“I hate this. That no good mentor of yours is gonna get you killed.” You grumbled.

“I thought you liked Nanami?” He asked as you pushed up slightly to be able to look at him. “Thought maybe you liked him even more than me.” You scoffed at that but when he didn’t laugh you realized he was a bit jealous.

“Ino, I am your girlfriend, we live together, I’m currently crying on top of you. I love you, not your stuffy mentor.”

“He’s not stuffy.” He says as you press a kiss to his lips.

“He’s not you either.” You say and Takuma can’t help but smile at that. “Is that why you’ve been working so much? Because you think I like Nanami more?”

“Maybe…” Takuma mumbles. Your hand slides against his jaw, running through his hair, fingers playing with the ends.

“That’s really cute, Ino.” You say as he throws an arm around your waist, tossing the blanket over you two. You kick off your shoes as he presses another kiss to the top of your head.

“Sorry, we're spending Christmas night in the hospital.” He says as he grabs the remote, clicking through channels.

“We spent your birthday and thanksgiving here too, it’s like our little tradition.” You say, knowing how macabre that sounded. He shuffled down a bit and pecked a kiss to your lips.

“I’ll get better, baby, I promise.” He promises as you turn to face him in the bed.

“I know you will. I have no doubt about that.” You say with a sure smile.

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sha-n-dowbannedlol · 30 days

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Wriothesley — the art of body language

cw: feat neuvillette, references to neuvi's story quest (sorry, i just finished it, loved it very much) other than that nothing rlly, just fluff

an: i cant believe i havent written anything for wrio yet??? thats unacceptable, considering i main him (and jing yuan too, all because ono daisuke voices them... jotaro brainrot goes crazy)

It had come to Iudex Neuvillette's attention that there is still much he needs to learn about the enigma that are humans. Following his recent revelations as to his role in Fontaine and relationship with its citizens, he thought it'd be nice if he gets to know them better.

It hadn't escaped his knowledge that sometimes, things would fly over his head. Things said in jest, he ends up taking seriously before realizing at a later time that it was in good humor.

Sometimes, he doesn't realize that his silence had ended up causing the other party feel awkward, and even then, he doesn't know what to do or talk about when they do.

And so, he started by studying the little things. Their expressions, their body language—It had first came up in a conversation with the head nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, Sigewinne.

During one of her rare vacations where she visits the overworld and checks on the Chief Justice in worry that he may be overworking himself again.

Sigewinne talks about the things she has learned from observing the expressions from the workers in the Fortress, and with her observant gaze, she notices just how interested the Chief Justice seems even if from an outsider's point of view, he just looks like he's sporting the same, neutral expression.

At that, Sigewinne brought it upon herself to share the things that she has learned, but he can see the slight furrow on Neuvillette's brow, his fingers on his chin, deep in thought as he tries to picture out the expressions that she's describing.

Thinking to herself, the head nurse thinks of someone that she can describe well enough but also someone that Neuvillette knows fairly well to help him picture out what she's saying—and one person easily comes to mind.

"Take His Grace, for example." Sigewinne mentions, and the Iudex looks up with his eyes widening the slightest bit.

"Wriothesley?" He echoes.

"Yeah!" The melusine chirps happily, smiling widely at Neuvillette.

"If you show him that one human you always send from the Gardes, you can notice a few things from his body language that you wouldn't notice if you're not looking closely."

Which leads to the mentioned Duke now sitting in Neuvillette's office in Palais Mermonia, a tea cup in hand. After all, if Neuvillette were to learn, it'd be better if he sees it for himself, no?

Wriothesley was in the middle of his sentence when a knock reverberates in the room, coming from the door to the entrance to the office. Still holding onto his teacup, the Duke glances at the door, before looking back at the man before him, not surprised by the knock at the very least, as if he had been expecting it.

"Monsieur," Wriothesley spoke in his usual polite tone towards the Chief Justice, "Are we expecting someone else?"

His icy gaze are calculating as they meet Neuvillette's gaze, the Iudex shaking his head, sighing as he looks back to meet the man's calculating gaze.

"Pardon me, it's just some business. It'll be quick." Neuvillette apologizes politely, to which Wriothesley nods and shrugs, taking a sip from his tea cup. Taking that as his 'go ahead' signal, the judge turns his head to his office door and spoke.

"Please, come in."

Neuvillette was quick to glance at Wriothesley from the corner of his eyes as the door opens. And as you came into view, he notices the way the Duke's eyes widened slightly in surprise, quietly choking on his tea but managing to gather himself again in a split second.

"Chief Justice." You spoke in a formal, polite tone, eyes glued to the man who nods in return, before you eventually noticed the other person in the room.

Again, Neuvillette observes Wriothesley.

"Your Grace," You also greet the Chief Justice's guest politely.

True to Sigewinne's words, The Lord Incognito sat with his back a little straighter, his chest puffing out as he oh so gently puts his tea cup down on its saucer, his voice laced with a tad bit of warmth as he spoke your name in greeting.

"Is it a bad time?" You asked, eyes glancing over the tea cups laid on the table between the two men, "I'm sorry for interrupting your meeting."

But before Neuvillette could reassure you that you weren't at fault, and that it was all his for having called for you, Wriothesley was quick to respond.

"Nonsense," Wriothesley didn't even hesitate to reassure you that he doesn't mind, a small genuine smile gracing his lips. "We're just sharing some words over tea, would you like a cup?"

"Thank you, Your Grace. But I couldn't possibly." You respond as you take steps closer, closing the door behind you as you fully enter the office.

"I insist." Wriothesley hums, already reaching out for a third tea cup that has been conveniently brought out by Neuvillette despite the fact that there were only two of them.

You raise your hand, about to protest but was cut off by the Chief Justice, your boss himself.

"You're no strangers to each other, please do share a cup," Neuvillette spoke as he looked at you with a nod before standing up from his seat. "Excuse me while I look for the file that our latest convict needs—I seem to have mixed it with other files."

An obvious lie. The Chief Justice is a neat person, everything has a place and everything is in their rightful place, but neither of them questioned it as Neuvillette offers his seat to you before moving over towards his desk where the paperworks to process the latest criminal lay.

He took this opportunity to study the scene before him, as he pretends to shuffle papers here and there.

Diluted pupils. Eye contact. Mirroring your actions. A smile never leaving his face. Leaning on the table. And.... uh huh. That's the third time Wriothesley tried to fix his hair in the past five minutes.

Neuvillette blinks as he observes the way the Duke handles himself around your presence, and he is sure that if Wriothesley had a tail, it'd be wagging happily right about now.

Eventually, the Iudex returned to rejoin your small party. A small smile was plastered on both your and the Duke's faces as you engaged in your own little world, both pairs of eyes landing on him as he penetrated your little bubble.

"I've found it," He spoke in his usual neutral tone, and you gave him a nod.

The ever gentleman that he is, Neuvillette thought nothing of it as his hands moved with sophisticated grace, pulling your chair out for you and offering you his hand to help you stand. He was just being polite. And being used to his actions, you didn't hesitate to take his hand as you stood. But...

Ah.

Neuvillete can't help but notice Wriothesley's gaze fixated on your hand in his grasp, the smile on his face gone, just his pale, icy gaze staring a hole into the Chief Justice's fingers around your hand.

Tense. On guard. Almost reminiscent of a guard dog meeting a stranger and gauging whether they are a threat or not.

Interesting.

The man let go of your hand to give you the paperwork you had come for, giving you another nod, your gazes now locked with each other's.

"Here you go,"

"Thank you, Monseiur."

You receive the files, opening your mouth to bid your farewell to both men in the room when the sound of the chair sliding against the floor sounded, and both your attention snapped towards Wriothesley who was letting out a loud sigh.

"Ah, would you look at the time?" Wriothesley suddenly announces loudly, as if making sure both of their attentions are on him. "It's getting late."

Neuvillette's head subtly tilts to the side in curiosity at Wriothesley's sudden actions. Trying to figure out what has the man so tense, quietly thinking to himself.

Is this what they call envy? No, envy isn't precisely the correct term...

Ah. Jealousy. That's the term.

"I should get going. Thank you for this afternoon, Monsieur Neuvillette." The Duke spoke, approaching the both of you, snapping the said man out of his thoughts, who turned to face him.

"The pleasure was all mine. I'm grateful for your time as well," The Chief Justice responds,

"I'll be on my way as well," You spoke your farewells to your boss, and Neuvillette watched as Wriothesley turned to face you this time, speaking your name in a soft tone.

"You'll be escorting an inmate to the Fortress, no?" Wriothesley spoke with a slight hint of amusement in his voice, his eyes on you as you nodded to confirm his questions.

"I am, but I'd have to pick them up first." You respond as you turn to walk towards the exit, Wriothesley hot on your heels like a puppy happily following its owner

"I'll go with you, then."

"That might not be a good idea, Your Grace. They might get intimidated."

"Well, they'll just have to deal with it, won't they? They'll be seeing more of me in Fortress of Meropide; they should get used to it."

Neuvillette watched your exchange, the Duke opening the door for you, closing it behind him, and your voices became muffled. The Hydro Sovereign stands in place, placing a hand on his chin as he thinks.

"And what kind of emotion does Wriothesley portray when around them?" Neuvillette had asked Sigewinne after she happily detailed every minuscule movement that Wriothesley does consciously and unconsciously in your presence.

"That is what humans refer to as romantic love." Sigewinne beams up happily at him, and he nods, making sure to make an internal note of that.

"So that was love." Neuvillette nods to himself, eyes still glued to the door where you and Wriothesley exited. Funnily enough, Wriothesley wasn't the only one he ended up observing.

From his observations, he can quickly tell that you had the same body language as the Duke throughout your entire conversation, a stark contrast to your more rigid and mechanical body language when speaking to him.

That day, oh so casually, the Chief Justice confirmed and gave his judgment on both of you based on the observed facts.

"They're in love with each other." Neuvillette concluded.

"And neither of them know."

#wriothesley x reader #wrio x reader #wriothesley #wriothesely x reader #genshin wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines

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sm-baby · 3 months

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OFF-LIMITS

freakshow AU by @hootbon

Context || The Chosen one (Part 1(??))

PRETEND MARRIAGE FIC LETS GO!! Off-limits is a non-canon sort of continuation for The Chosen One!! Also Just putting it here: Showtime is not canon in freakshow AU!! I'm just.. being indulgent-👉👈

Word count: 7750

The pacing is a little off but I'll let you be the judge...OK ENJOY BYE HUGS AND KISSES!! NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN!! also if Hoot's reading this I'm so sorry.

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There were many benefits to being the ringleader's favourite.

One of them is being proposed to, apparently.

She didn't think her body still had the capability to choke, but apparently it was all too possible. She gagged, punching her fist to her chest on the flavourly assault on her throat, hacking wheezing as the grip on the tea table tightened.

Pomni winced, eyes twitching and swallowing before sitting back down with a not-so-casual tone in her voice. She faked a laugh “Haha… what-”

“ I'm marrying you."

The man sat on the opposite side of the tea table, classy, with full manners. the way his hands were politely on the table, proper yet focused… Caine so specifically wanted the meeting in Pomni’s room... She was perfect for the setting. A doll playing tea party. Classic. Simple.

“ A-And what does-”

“ It means my brother can no longer claim ownership over you."

Pomni inhaled and stirred the tea in her hands. She fawned a fake sympathy towards his perspective humming along as if she understood his reasonings…but she choked, this time mentally.

Were they seriously still on that dumb brother’s quarrel? Ownership? She didn't think Able would want to do anything with her after their last meeting but it seems the tension she's been feeling between the both of them has been growing… Caine’s brother has been nicer to her lately, she assumes, still in the effort for him to be in her good graces… but she didn't think it would really lead to anything, nor would she let it.

“... Ha." Was all that left her. Pomni doesn't often know what to say in tense situations. She lost herself in her thoughts, cupping her tea in both hands, nervous and tense. Of course, she definitely doesn't want to do this. She was more so thinking about a way to decline him rather than a yes or a no.

Uhh… hmm..

“ You would still be performing, but this also means you get to sleep in the old manor. Or so I think that's what husbands do… unless my sources are wrong which—“

Pomni could spit out her entire drink! That changes everything! “ YES-" she slammed her hands on the table.

Caine wasn't startled, but rather, just looked at her, raising a brow at the rude interruption. he'd look down, seeing that pomni just spilled tea over herself and the table… what manners.

“ Uhh-... Yes- that- that is what husbands do, yes… “ she sat back down, her voice awkwardly lowering to a timid whimper.

The gentleman barely looked at her, rather levitated a napkin to wipe the table. It was a cruel silence, almost like he dared her to explain such rude behavior.

Pomni cleared her throat “ sorry, I-I would uh… love to be married- to-- You… ?” Is that how one says yes to a proposal?

“ Ha. It humours me how you think you have a choice in the matter. “ Caine snapped his fingers, and the napkin disappeared. If he were to be perfectly honest, he saw no qualms in letting Pomni live in the manor. He would relish in the thought of her walking past his brother knowing she was officially unattainable. A sort of trophy of sorts. A taunt mayhaps. A jest. A silly funny mockery.

Meanwhile Pomni’s brain was completely somewhere else…

To have access to the circus on the regular while having more time in the manor… no more stupid games necessary, no more-- having to kiss up and hold the balance towards both brothers! This was a win! Of course this isn't a ticket out of the circus, but she's going somewhere, and it's refreshing compared to the circles she's been running for the past few months.

Pomni looked up to see Caine, sitting across her, this time with a hand extended to shake.

As soon as she shook his hand, a ring formed around her finger, from thin air, seemingly out of nowhere.

“To show that you're reserved."

Pomni looked at her finger, and-- honestly the way he said that made her skin crawl. Caine always saw Pomni and the others as lesser than him. And the way he proposed was no different from a person booking a seat at a restaurant.

The deal was struck and Caine wasted no time to get up and leave the room. A small good bye greeting, closing the door behind him, but otherwise his business there was done.

Pomni was still sitting on the tea table, thinking to herself, staring at the ring on her finger. It was like it was part of her body. She would try to pull it off but to no avail, no budging or anything.

She grit her teeth… great.

The two went their own separate ways thinking nothing and everything about the transaction… though it must have been quite the sight to see Caine leave the room, and have Pomni follow a few moments later, now with a ring on her finger.

“ No f@#$ing way.” Jax thought, seeing the sight.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it was certainly a Caine wedding.

The ceremony itself? she could barely remember any of it. Rather, small clouds of memories that were important.

The way she walked down the aisle so stiffly, like a gun was pointed at her head. The way Caine placed a ring on her finger, Kaufmo’s death gurgles as he officiated their wedding…

There were small comforts. She didn't actually think of it as anything special— more just a necessity rather than an actual wedding, but some of her friends tried to make it special for her. Ragatha was sitting front row in support not for the union but for Pomni herself– Kinger hallucinating, holding her hand in a father daughter dance. And Gangle making the the effort of getting her a wedding gift– or what she could give anyway…which was a drawing of her in her wedding dress.

Caine wasn't even present in the after party. He just placed the setting and left the guests to their own devices. That was honestly a relief for Pomni for a short while, to be able to hang out with the closest things she had to “friends”. She had the lone memory of Ragatha and Kinger giving her a drink, and asking her how she was doing.

They've both been well aware of her motives by now. Exit, exit, exit. At this point they were convinced that was her form of insanity. But they supposed that little bit of hope was keeping her going.

Kinger turned Ragatha then back to Pomni. “ We hope you know what you're doing.”

“ I never said I did…” the bride said, her pitch getting timidly higher. “ But– it's a direction! I don't have a lot of expectations either, but…hey, I think I'd regret it if I didn't take the chance. ” She looked back up at them, embarrassed at her short rambling. “ Oh! I hope– you two are holding up relatively okay tonight?”

Ragatha chortled.

Kinger answered “ We haven't been okay for years, Pomni.”

“ Y-Yeah…I… I should have seen that coming, yeah…”

Suddenly, a slow song came on the reception.

Most of them weren't fond at the idea of a slow dance at first, but a tap from Ragatha to a ribbony friend (and a sister begging the other) later, people were on the dancefloor.

Ragatha danced with Gangle, then exchanging partners from her to Kinger. The Gangle AI found it funny to force Kaufmo and his rabbit friend in a dance. The night was going off with a hitch.

Ragatha swayed back to exchange partners from Kinger to Gangle, and the magician was off on his lonesome again. He took no offence to this, but standing in the middle of the dancefloor on his own, to a song that used to be considered romantic, he couldn't help but freeze.

He stared at one of the guests in the distance, the one who decided to sit out the activity. The one in the dark staring daggers at him as they dawned the very torso that used to bring him warmth.

Maybe…

… If she was still in there…

He could ask if—

Before Kinger could take one step further, a hand took his own, the hand of a very worried bride clearing her throat and walking him back into the dancefloor. “ Kinger, this sounds like a good song!” Pomni laughed nervously, heels clacking as she pulled him gently but insistently.

Kinger blinked, and turned to her. “...Oh! Yeah! It is!” And just like that, the old man was brought back to the dance floor.

It was almost like the poor were invited to their first celebration. Some were laughing, and there were definitely moments of teasing and natural play, but at the end of the day they knew they would be hungry again. It was an inevitability. Some chose to spend it to the fullest, some chose to wallow, some chose to make the best out of it.

Pomni struggled to keep up with the magician’s stature, but they figured it out after their earlier father daughter dance. She would be pleased to see that He was almost experienced with the way he moved.

Her dance partner wasn't all that mentally present, but she could see that he was calm. The way he listened to the music and closed his eyes was disassociated. But it was a look of contentment.

His grip was so sure yet gentle around Pomni. Holding her like it was the last dance he would ever have with someone.

She could only imagine what he was picturing in that brain of his. She dared not interrupt.

“ I've danced with someone before... I think.”

Pomni looked up at him. “ What do you mean?”

“ I don't know who that person was, but I remember feeling very nice when I was with her.”

Pomni sucked air through her teeth. She's heard… read… stories from Ragatha. Although it wasn't the most in detail, she figured out the jist just from hush-hush language she used.

She had a feeling she knew exactly what was going on. But it wasn't her business to correct him.

“ She must have been a great person.” Pomni said.

For the first time Kinger didn't feel like wood. His eyes relaxed just from that simple validation, a moment of blissful unawareness of where he was or who he was. Love spread from his heart, to his chest, to his finger tips, to the… little…friend? Yes, friend… that he was dancing with.

Pomni was well aware that she wasn't the person he was seeing at that moment. He had no thoughts, but the feeling of a powerful comfort took over him, he didn't care to take back anything else. Not his memories, not his sanity, not his mind. Like holding the hand that he once kissed. Spinning her, laughing with her, holding her close when the clock struck a romantic midnight.

He could feel a tear escape his eye.

“What about you, Pomni?” Kinger opened his eyes and suddenly realised that his hands were holding at nothing. Not a person, not anything. Kinger blinked and looked around, that blissful feeling suddenly becoming fleeting.

He was by himself on the dancefloor again

“... Pomni?”

Pomni would catch herself tripping forward. What was once the tiles that was the dance floor was now wooden, and unfamiliar. “Wh- wha- where…?”

In the blink of an eye Pomni was somewhere else. For a moment she was confused before turning around and seeing her new found husband, back turned to her, sitting, looking down from the balcony they were at.

“ Awfully rude of you to dance with someone more than your own husband.” He didn't even bother to turn to her. He was still looking down, hands on his would-be chin, sitting on a long chair made of cushion and fine wood.

“ I-I was just dancing with—”

Pomni was cut off by Caine slowly patting a space on the seat beside him. The cushion, comfortable, yet sturdy. Pomni gulped before approaching.

When she joined him she could see the view from above…it was an indoor balcony built for the rich to watch the poor.

From up high, Pomni could see the other performers, and quickly she scanned the dance floor to see Kinger, shaken, looking around and interrupting Ragatha’s dance in worry for where she went.

Pomni bit her lip and sunk down. Guilt over took her. She stood on her tiptoes, hands on the wooden railing and waved to be seen, to let them know that at least she's safe, and praying that they understood that she didn't leave them but-

Caine’s hand grabbed her arm. “ No, no. Let them figure it out.”

She froze from his touch. Caine guided her hand to make her sit down and she sunk in the seat right beside him. She looked down to read the others distress and felt immense relief when she made brief eye contact with Ragatha which then the assistant turned back to kinger, calming him down without making it obvious she's seen them.

Pomni sighed.

On her way to lean back on the chair, she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder, then pulling her to her side.

She stared at it for a moment, the arm. her body stiffened at the all too familiar touch, before looking forward, sweating, in denial at the situation.

Caine crossed his legs, an ankle on the other knee, still looking on at the view in front of them. His posture was far from hers. Swaying his crossed legs, relaxed, and confident. for a moment he looked at her and back down at the party.

Amazing reception as always, Caine. You've really outdone yourself with this one.

They stayed there in silence for a couple of moments. Caine was all too comfortable and Pomni had nothing to say to him. The groom would say that his bride looked beautiful that night, but in the most objectifying way possible. She was an accessory. She always was. Nothing different from a beautiful pearl necklace.

Maybe it was the way he was gripping her, but Pomni couldn't breathe with all the tension in the air. She let out a shaky breath, a face comparable to a cat hypervigilant towards a cucumber. Sometimes she forgets how affectionate Caine can get with her physically, and every time she just accepts it. Not like she can do anything about it really.

“ Wine, boss!” A servant walked into the balcony area. A voice so signature, and unmistakable Pomni didn't need to turn around. Caine and his bubble were inseparable except for the moments when they weren't. If she hadn't known any better she—

Pomni came back to reality.

…Wine?

“ Thank you, Bubble.”

Pop!

Caine didn't even have to lift a finger, the wine bottle was already levitating towards him as well as a wine glass, ready to pour.

“ Wine???” Pomni flinched, turning her whole body towards the bottle.

Caine blinked. “ Oh! How could I forget, you've never had this…” He thought to himself.

He would never let the circus members have wine for multiple reasons. The poor PG rating would go down if their mouths were without filter. And also he didn't need to have a bunch of wild animals run a muc and destroy the circus tent. But right then, he duplicated the wine glasses into two, pouring one for himself and for his bride.

“ Consider it a reward for being so attentive today.”

Pomni got her glass, and held it in both hands. God damn. She hasn't had alcohol in so long.

It was as plastic as expected but wine wasn't there for the texture. She was just about ready to drink the night away. Pomni tried to play it with manners but admittedly took longer sips than what she could usually handle.

They both continued the night in silence

and Pomni waited…

And waited…

And…

Motherfucker, this isn't doing anything to her!

The visible frustration was clear and Caine couldn't help but let out quiet snickering.

“ Huh—!?”

Caine snickered again, barely audible, but less is more. Pomni couldn't help but feel embarrassed. There he is again! Playing with her like always! “ You didn't actually think I would let it affect you, did you?”

“ No—! I… I didn't even think that you could--! I..!” The woman gripped the wine glass. “ ugh! ”Had it been for the fact that she had to watch herself around Caine, it would have been in pieces by now!

Caine would continue to laugh, not seeing any of the woman’s frustration as a threat. It would take a great deal to scare Caine. One could take a knife to his throat and he wouldn't take it seriously. Pomni wasn't even sure if fear was programmed in his AI.

But Pomni stared at the floor, eyes scribbled, forcing herself into disassociation to stop herself from doing something she’ll regret, and suppressing any more anger.

She hated him. She hated where she was. She hated so much of this. She had a long fucking day and she really didn't need this. She couldn't cry, she couldn't scream. She felt the strongest urge to have a tantrum in her room but that wasn't possible! She just can't win in this shit hole!

Ugh! God DAMN IT!

So much screaming went through her head, but it was nothing but silence on the outside. She was just about ready to be completely immobile for the night. Mentally skip pass the rest of the day, she could just explode and she would be okay with it.

Caine rolled his eyes and took a sip from his glass, but Pomni’s overall energy was too loud to ignore. He sighed.

The groom lifted her head up by poking a finger on her forehead, and forcing her to look up at him. “ As much as how beautiful you are pouting, it's really ruining my night.”

Silence.

“ Pomni, do you want to be intoxicated?”

Silence again.

…Caine patted her face.

“ Huh? What? Where am I?”

“ I'm noticing your desire to be intoxicated. Do you want to be drunk?”

Pomni squinted her eyes and furrowed her brows, looking at him in question. Suspicious. “ What's in it for—”

“ I will give you the ability to be intoxicated if you stop seething. I will not have this attitude on my wedding night.” Caine said, grumbling, taking another sip at his glass. “ So I ask you one last time, would you like to be-”

“ YES!” pomni cried!

Caine squinted his eyes at that reply, once again unamused by Pomni’s rude interruption. But this time she wasn't apologetic at all, rather grabbing at his collar desperately.

she continued. “ God, yes, please—”

Oh he really shouldn't be rewarding this behaviour.

And just like that, Pomni's glass was filled once again. It didn't take her long to start sipping but their mini deal came with boundaries:

(1)She is to take her time and behave while drinking.

(2)Caine has the ability to make her sober again at the snap of a finger.

(3) She may only have one glass of wine.

That was it. Truth be told, I didn't care for anything else. If she gets aggressive he could easily subdue her. If she hurt herself, as long as her dress wasn't ruined he was fine.

At first it felt like nothing. Pomni was just calm, her speech becoming slightly slurred, but otherwise it was just Pomni. She looked light weight and she was light weight.

Ah, that's more like it. Quiet.

He wrapped his arm around her again, and this time Pomni just accepted her fate. She leaned into his touch, thinking of him as nowhere different from a pillow.

Pomni’s vision could go blurry with how little attention she was paying at that moment. But she couldn't help but wonder. The blinding lights, the food, nice decor… and asked: “ Why all the effort?”

“ I don't say no to a celebration to my name! and yours I guess.” Caine mumbled that last part in the middle of a sip. “… and if my brother asks one of you, you have the right to say that our wedding was official.”

“ God, you two are such brothers….” Pomni muttered under her breath.

“ Only by code.”

The bride put a palm on her face, muffling her words. “ No… the fighting. The quaralling, the one upping… you act like little boys.”

“ …Excuse me?”

“ I didn't even think marriage can be official in the digital realm… you make the rules. Might as well make wedding certificates and it would be just as official.” Pomni chuckled. “ But you married me cuz you wanted to make your brother jealous.”

… He didn't have the energy to reply to such an immature, untrue, false, made up, retort. He just rolled his eyes. He had too much self respect to entertain such false assumptions. “ Ugh…” his face grew in disgust. Pomni without filter is worse that he thought. At this point he'd prefer if she got aggressive instead.

Time passed. Pomni wasn't very pretty when she was drunk. She'd have the ugliest laugh, and the crudest things to giggle at, though, the last one was a little amusing. But Caine was just waiting for til the moment the glass was empty so he could— pop! Snap her back to soberity.

But something intrigued him.

She started talking about his brother.

Her filter became less and less. And Caine perked up when she did. She talked badly about Able’s taste in music and art, how annoying it was whenever he visited the circus, how much she despised his very existence…

…Caine filled her glass again.

“ —a-and that nagging voice! ‘That sounds wonderful, sweetie!’ ‘ Oh, Pomni, you're so smart!’ God!”

Caine chuckled, and started leaning closer towards Pomni to hear her better.

Pomni continued,“ Oh he's so pretentious! And so-- so—”

“ Condescending?”

“ Yes! C-Condescending, patronizing, I— what am I? Nine??!”

Caine laughed! Oh hearing slander about his brother was music to his ears! And to hear it from someone to passionately-- he can't get enough! This was making his night!

“ S-say… was my glass always so full?” Pomni turned to her wine glass. She could have sworn she's been drinking for an hour at this point… she doesn't remember refilling it!

“ Hm? Oh, no no, digital hellucinations, my dear. Do carry on with what you were saying.” Caine pushed her wine glass closer to her chest, not bringing much attention to it.

“ Oh. Right. As I was saying…”

Oh Caine was having the time of his life. Smug chuckling left his teeth, absolutely enraptured by Pomni’s unfiltered bad mouthing. Shes been putting into words feelings he held for far too long. Ahh, he could stay there for hours.

“ I mean— at least you don't even-- try to hide that you don't like me. You don't act like friends with any of us.”

Caine could feel himself blush, playfully swiping his wrist at her. “ Oh you're too much.” She was praising him now? Why, Christmas came early! How can he not enable this behaviour? “ Keep going.”

The trauma bonding would further on, but at some point Pomni tuckered herself out. The alcohol was getting her, she's been talking long enough, she's been full of hate enough today. Pomni leaned her head back on the chair to doze off, before Caine shook her awake.

“ Hey!” He grabbed her face, mushing both her cheeks. “ Awaken! Tonight hasn't ended yet. We have yet to full-fill the husband/wife quota.”

“ Mmm…you're already my husband, remember? Kaufmo said so at the..the..” Pomni yawned. “Wedding.. ceremony…”

Caine groaned!

Snap!

“ Oh- damn it!”

And just like that all alcohol was erased from Pomni’s system. He also fully woke her up. Pomni can never truly escape that day. She groaned into her hands as she felt energy return to her body.

“ Come, come.” Caine got up and fixed his suit. “ Let's at least greet the guests off. Then you'll sleep at the manor.”

“ On my way…”

Alcohol truly was a temporary darling. Just when she felt her sorrows were drowned away, she came back into reality— at an even worse state.

The two teleported back downstairs to end the party. Caine announced it's end and Pomni was saying goodbye to her friends. She greeted Kinger goodnight, waved Ragatha goodbye while she was busy with (one of) the twins. Jax’s goodbye was nothing but mockery, gesturing to her like she's some little princess in her wedding dress, which Pomni froze in embarrassment. Zooble wasn't even there when she came downstairs…for the better maybe. They always made her skin crawl.

The guests were away and the two were alone once again. At the snap of a finger, Caine fixed the entire reception. Any mess, streamers, decoration, gone, as if there never was a party to begin with.

Caine fixed his coat and arranged his gloves, dusting off all the mess that came with being in the vicinity of the others. Meanwhile, Pomni was thinking to herself— something she never thought to question…

“ Hey, Caine…” she looked up at him. “ When you said ‘sleep at the manor’, what —”

And swoop! Next think she knew he swept her off her feet in the traditional bridal style position, and before she could react—snap! They were teleported somewhere else! A bedroom that was nowhere like the others.

“UH—” Before she could say anything, Caine put his arms out straight and dumped her on to the bed. Man. What a romantic guy.

Oof Pomni frowned when she was dropped head-first, so carelessly and aggressively on the cushions… she groaned in misery— before remembering where she was.

She quickly got her head up and looked around! She was wrong! This place was familiar!

“ Huh!?”

“ My bedroom.” Caine said so passively. “ Well technically now it's yours as well, but. It's mine.” It looked like his mind was occupied with something else, he was staring forward but he was not at the present moment. She knew that look, he was searching something in his database.

“ When was this??”

“ Since I told my brother you were moving in.”

“ Why??”

“ I'm ignoring you if you keep asking questions.’

Pomni looked around… this was like the guest room they made for the performers but grander. The bed was even a little higher— God forbid she falls off in her sleep.

Caine fits right in the room’s aesthetic, Pomni was completely out of place. The room’s palette was red and black, with linings of gold here and there… Caine really hadn't bothered to make it accommodating for her. She just sat there in silence awkwardly like she was just invited to a friend’s house.

Man…can she even sleep in this? She looked down on the sheets: they were red, The pillows as well. the wood was furnished black and if she looked up, she'd see a chandelier at the ceiling.

She shivered… Her old bedroom was weird, but she's spent just enough time in it to grow comfortable. at least she fit in its overall aesthetic. But she doesn't think she could say the same for this one. This whole room screamed Caine.

“ Ah. Here it is. ‘How newlyweds spend their wedding night’.” Caine said, and continued to look forward.

“ What…N...No. Caine, don't read that.” Caine really…really…did n o t need to know about human customs. She's going to die from how awkward this was about to be..

The AI muttered what he was reading, “ ‘ Spend time together, Newlyweds often feel drained after a day of celebration …’ skip.”

“ Caine.” Pomni winced. “ Caine, did you not do research beforehand-”

“ ‘ When both couples lay in bed together it's important to have both parties feel safe in each other's presence—’ ickk.. skip. Are there any alternatives?”

“ Caine, I'm going to throw up.”

“ ‘According to a new survey with over 350 recently-married couples, nearly 40 percent of newlyweds had—’...”

Caine squinted in disgust.

“ I'm not reading that.”

Pomni at this point just gave up and put her head on the pillow.

“ Seeing as none of this is applicable to us, let's just skip this step of the consummation. As much as it pains me not to properly follow the process. I'll just leave you here and you can sit out the night. Good?”

“ I-”

“ Wonderful.” Caine snapped his fingers and the two were back in their usual outfits. He was back in his ringmaster clothes and Pomni was in her sleeping wear. And by sleeping wear, it means her usual tutu. Because she does not have sleeping wear.

Caine fixed himself up and pulled a blanket up on Pomni’s body. That's good enough. Husband's say goodnight to their wives if he was correct?

Caine scanned his database again.

Yeah, he was correct.

“ Goodnight, dear.”

“ Ahh…” This was weird. “ G-Good.. Goodnight.”

And just like that, Pomni was off to sleep. Meanwhile, Caine teleported out of his room into another place at the Manor. He dusted his hands off and was already somewhere else mentally. he had other matters to attend to, another show to organize. He's spoiled himself enough with a night celebrating his name, now it was back to work. How Caine liked to work.

Morning followed and Pomni was snapped awake with a booming greeting “ Good morning, dear.”

Pomni screamed.

Her heart would beat out of her chest from the surprise-- forcing her up from her fight or flight

She flinched away at the sight of Caine's face inches away from hers. They sat there in silence for a moment… Pomni gulped, before looking pass him and seeing where she was then remembering the night before.

“Wh…” the red bed, the chandelier… “Oh.” Pomni look at her hand, the left, and saw the ring that stubbornly stuck to her finger. but before she could say anything more, the blanket was thrown off of her, a snap, and the next thing she knew she was sat on the vanity table.

Oh god-- everything was going so fast… Caine snapped his fingers again and her grooming mannequins teleported in. “ I'll leave you here to get ready. I must awaken everyone else for role call. There should be a door to the circus down the hall! Be there.”

Pomni forced a smile and two thumbs ups, then, Caine was off.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She hadn't considered how little privacy she had now that her and Caine shared the same bedroom. Will he be doing this every morning? God, not only is it an incredibly inconvenient start of her day, it's also like having the world's most dangerous alarm clock.

Pomni put a hand through her face and grumbled, keeping herself awake— less so in the physical sense more in the emotional motivation sense. And before she knew it, the mannequins brushed her hair and did their work.

The next few days were something she had to get used to. Every morning Pomni would be greeted by a routine wake up, and every night she would be dumped back into bed, greeted goodnight, and Caine immediately leaving a second later. “Goodmorning, dear.”, “goodnight, dear.” again and again. Caine really was committed to the husband role-- though it wasn't far for AI to follow certain routines and patterns after acquiring a new set of data.

Oh how could she forget:

Able spent more time in the Manor than Caine did. She would often see him around the house minding his own business, doing his own half of work. He never tried to make small talk anymore which was a stark contrast to his overly friendly persona towards her before she got married. The sounds of violins would go quiet when she walked in the room. It was as if he could just walk pass her with how invisible she was to him. He didn't have lips but she felt that if he did, it would turn into a scowl.

Once, she remembered walking pass him in the hallway, that time she tried to start conversation and—

“ Able?”

“ Don't talk to me.” With out even turning around, his heels were already clacking away, posture more spiteful than his usual.

It was odd but Pomni rolled her eyes.

Good riddance.

During her stay though she never stopped looking for an exit. Being in the brothers’ home was a system all in itself. Ever since she moved in, Caine apparently was there more often. This made it hard to navigate but memorizing both the brother’s schedules didn't take long. Being ai they were very systematic, consistent, as long as there were no human interruption nothing was stopping them from following the same routine.

To be in close vascity between Caine and Able meant no privacy. Pomni snuck around to investigate, less she’d be caught and teleported back. She's tried most of everything, but the brothers’ Manor was bigger and more…liminal, than she thought.

For every one hallway it felt like there were 50 more. Door after door, an endless maze of nothing but unfinished projects and code. The Manor was a testing facility… a place where the brothers tested out code and concepts before applying them at the circus… there has to be something.

At some points she was so deep into it she didn't think either of the brother's could hear her. She didn't know if anyone could hear her. She could scream or laugh as much as her manic mind can get, and no one could. It was comforting in a way to finally be left alone, but dread came with it.

The dread or never making it back home. The dread of never leaving this torturous realm.

Things started to get blurry.

The wallpaper was repeating. Doors, every single one looked the same. She didn't know if one door was the other. She turned back and— did the lay out change?? The wallpaper was all so fancy and clean but headachingly repetative. The world was spinning. Her head had a pulse. Her heart was wriggling in her chest. It felt like someone reached inside her back and pulled her spine out.

She opened a door,

And another

And another.

Random generations, code and miscalculations, projects abandoned and left to dust, circus acts left to die. To die. To die. To die. She envied it. She envied the ability to die.

She got so dizzy. So frustrated, but there was nothing to break, nothing to focus on. she was on autopilot. With how she's been opening doors for the past few hours, she didn't even care to find an exit anymore. Simply open doors. Wander around. If you find an exit on the way, congratulations. But otherwise, there was nothing anymore.

One hallway had a mirror and all she could do was stare with broken eyes. What she saw, she couldn't care less about anymore…who was that she was looking at? Where was she? Who was she? How did she get here? What was her name again?

She kept staring and her eyes wandered to her hands. Amongst all the dissociation was a pit of anger in her throat. She looked at her finger. The ring. And all she saw was the very thing keeping her trapped there. The cruelest person— the cruelest thing, in the world.

Pomni started to pull at the ring.

She hated him. She hated him so much. She hated how much he toyed with her. She didn't understand how such fucked up things could even happen to a block of code, she didn't know what peice of shit of a person would ever create him. If god can be proven then the devil can be too. And he was living proof of that. The entire circus was proof of that.

Pomni grunted a tearful cry, desperately aching for the ring to come off, but it wouldn't budge. If there was pain, she couldn't feel it. She would bleed if it meant having to take it off. Pain was the last thing on her mind at that moment, just the desperate need for something, anything to go her way. Out of anything in this god forsaken realm, she wanted freedom from something, living breathing proof that there was hope in leaving, that she had a semblance of control in this hell.

“ God DAMN IT!!” The pain on her fingers were apparent, yet she hasn't processed any bit of it. “ I hate you! ” She sucked air to her teeth as tears formed in her eyes. She saw no use in keeping anything in anymore.

Tears streamed down her face with no means of stopping. Pomni, with bruises and scratches on her ring finger, collapsed with her knees on the floor, bent down, letting her tears be absorbed by the carpet. Her whimpering, cries, tears she hadn't let out in ages. She soon let her forehead touch the floor, complete and utter loss of hope and motivation.

And for a few moments she just sat there… adjusting by sitting on the floor, leaning her back on the wall, tears streamed empty emotions. Crying didn't help. Running didn't help. Screaming didn't help. And so she sat there. Like a puppet left to sit until their next performance.

That's all she was. And that's all she'll ever be.

Was she any different in the real world? She didn't care anymore.

Pomni let out her last hiccups. The floor wasn't comfortable at all…The doll stood up, body heavy. Her steps towards any door were heavy and unmotivated. The only sound echoing through the halls were the sound of her muffle heels, clacking above the carpet.

She could use some sleep.

After a long day of organising and work, Caine reached into his coat for his pocket watch. It was about time where the performers would be off to bed, and he didn't need to tell them that. This is one of the rare times of the day where he leaves them to their own. He, however, doesn't need sleep. Caine AI knows no tire. He turned his heel, ready to do more work before remembering— ah. His wife. That part of the daily routine.

See, for the past few days he's been having the formula to wake Pomni up in the morning, and putting her to bed at night, leaving seconds after. Always with his “goodnight, dear” and “good morning, dear”s that one. That's right. He was officially given the trait husband, and-- he's heard that that's what husband's do. And so he Incorporated it in his system.

Of course, even after their wedding night he never put in the effort to even think about laying in the same bed with her. First of all, he has no use for sleep. Second of all, that would be a complete waste of time and resources—He can do work simply standing up and staring into oblivion, but there is only so much he can do. Third of all, it was terribly boring. Fourth of all, he can touch Pomni but laying in the same bed for a prolonged period of time-- no amount of snaps would rid him of all her filth. And fifth—

The list can go on and on, and yet… something ached him to his core. It's been bothering him since the wedding night actually. The very act of not spending the night with her as husband and wife, that skipped a step in the process. And that bothered him more than any boundary he has up. It was part of a system, and he didn't officialize it because he wasn't feeling it that day? Caine AI, were you coded in a barn? Frankly, he was disappointed in himself for letting his ego— perfectionism get the better of him. Was he even truly husband without that final step? He felt like a fraud.

That whole thought process took place in the matter of .0001 seconds. And he was off.

He teleported to The Manor on his way to atleast clean up the bedroom first. But just when he made his way up the stairs, he turned, noticing the clearly dishevelled and previously distressed looking Pomni coming out of one of the hallways.

He squinted and scanned her.

Dirty clothes, eye bags, wet and sore eyes, sniffling, head low…

Oh. She had been crying.

He rolled his eyes. As long as she wasn't doing it on stage he didn't care. And frankly he didn't want to deal with it.

He cleared his throat to let her know that he was present, in a way, also telling her to gather herself.

“ Oh…” But Pomni didn't budge. She wasn't as disassociated as earlier but still had little energy to be scared at that moment. “ Hey, Caine. I’ll get upstairs soon, I just need a minute to—”

He didn't have time for this.

Snap!

The usual routine continued. He teleported her to their room, dumped her to bed and sent Pomni face down on the cushion. She doesn't think she would ever get used to that. She put her head up groggily, still too tired to even really complain, before crawling to her usual side of the bed, the right side. She let out a few sniffles of misery. But before she could tuck herself in, she realised that Caine hadn't greeted her goodnight. Or— hasn't even teleported away yet, actually…

She turned to Caine in the bedroom and would notice that he was looking at himself in the mirror. He was snapping his fingers, switching through different kinds of sleeping wear— what??

She squinted in confusion. Caine usually wouldn't stick around for any longer than a few seconds.

“ Wh…what are you doing…” Pomni said, voice clearly still sore for all her time crying.

Caine finally found pajamas that fit him and fixed himself in the mirror. “ I'm spending my time here tonight.”

“ …Why…?”

“ It doesn't concern you.” he turned to her, and floated his way to the bed, before noticing what she was wearing. She was still wearing her uniform! Is that what she was sleeping in the whole time? Honestly he hadn't cared, and he wouldn't care had it been for the fact that he was joining her tonight. He was in classy night wear while she wore her tutu. That simply isn't uniform.

A snap of a finger, and Pomni was wearing a nightgown that matched his shirt and pants. With bags under her eyes, she looked down. She didn't have the energy to comment on it as anything special. It was nice to be comfortable for once. But there was nothing more she can say about it.

“ There we go.” Caine said. “Goodnight, dear.”

“ …Goodnight.”

He put himself under the covers, but Pomni was still staring off. Someone who cared for Pomni would ask her how she was feeling, but they were not in the room at that moment.

Pomni wasn't feeling good. She was feeling terrible. If this was any other day, she would be terrified to be sleeping next to Caine. But the fact that she doesn't feel anything strong…

She didn't have a good day… entirely honestly, she was hoping to cry herself to sleep that night. It wouldn't be her first, and it wouldn't be her last. But with the devil beside her, he had no choice but keep herself together.

Her breath was shaken. But she laid down for sleep.

A few hours passed. It felt like the longest night the two would ever spend.

Pomni didn't know if it was her nerves or the room temperature, but she buried herself in her blanket. She could close her eyes all she wanted but no amount of pretend could distract her from all the voices in her head. She wasn't hallucinating, it wasn't anything. Rather the voices were more of doubt, insecurity, and fear. It would come often, but that night was especially loud. Terribly so.

Caine on the other hand was staring at the ceiling. Hands on his chest. He's been staring in silence for hours at this point —and he had the artificial patience to go on for longer—but he found this activity inconvenient. And even worse so when he could hear his wife sniffling right beside him.

Pomni finally started shaking under the covers. Hands shielding her head-- her knees were on to her chest with how curled up she was. It hurt to be quieter than she was already being. The voices got to her and all she could do was cry at that point.

Neither of the couple could get themselves to sleep.

Caine could only roll his eyes. While he stared at the ceiling, Pomni was faced to her side, away from him, curled up cold and unrested. For a moment she looked at the hands shielding her, and the representation of her entrapment looked back. With several bruises and scratches around it, her finger still dawned the very ring that put her there.

The memory of Caine in the wedding ceremony played back-- the very moment he put the ring on her at the altar. That was the moment that sealed her fate. She wished she could take it back. The image felt like dying a hundred times over.

Caine wasn't stupid. Although he knew little understanding of the human condition his processors picked up on certain symptoms and body language. He would usually ignore them as they were a waste of energy, but he had nothing else to process other than the ceiling he'd been staring at for the past few hours.

He knew Pomni wasn't well. What for? He didn't care. All that he knew was that she was upset, and it wasn't worth his time. It wasn't anything that he hasn't already heard a hundred times from the other performers. She was going to cry again and again anyway. What was the use?

Her hiccups and sniffling were tiny compared to the rest of the room. And yet no one was willing to hear her, listen to her. Perhaps that was all she wanted. If she had someone to be there to trust-- maybe this would have been bearable. Maybe in a different timeline she would still have the strength to go on for just another day. But that wasn't realistic. Not in the digital realm. She could scream all she wanted and no one would bat an eye.

This wasn't the first time she cried tears this painful. And it certainly will not be the last.

#The amazing digital circus #freakshow au #pomni #caine #The amazing digital circus pomni #The amazing digital circus caine #tadc pomni #tadc caine #caine x pomni #pomni x caine #showtime #showtime shipping #tadc #fic #writing

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sarahisslytherin · 2 months

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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁.

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: first part of this multi-chapter fic.

It was a day like any other. You woke to the humming of the maid, the hum-drum of life about the house. You rubbed sleep from your eyes as you reluctantly got out of bed. You selected your gown for the day after scouring through your wardrobe of various shades of pastel. You bid good morning to the servants as you made your way downstairs and joined your family for breakfast. There your mother urgently reminded you (as if you had forgotten from one day to the next) the importance that you find yourself a suitor, someone of good rank.

But you barely had any mind to pay her; for it was elsewhere, with another. You cut your breakfast short, unable to bear any more talk of suitors and marriage and a life without love. You were buttoning your coat when an angel descended the staircase. Well, it wasn’t truly an angel; only your lady’s maid, but the letter she held in her hand couldn’t have been any more sacred to you. She passed it to you and your eyes met hers, the looks you exchanged almost like those of two best friends trading gossip, or in this case, your own little secret.

You slipped the sealed envelope into your coat pocket before finally stepping out the door and down the front steps. Outside, London was alive and full of the colors of spring. Though you could’ve walked the streets for hours on end, you opted to head straight to the park and sat down on the nearest bench. You sifted through your pocket, pulling the envelope out. You couldn’t help noting that it smelled of lavender and cinnamon as you gently broke the seal. There, the words you had been waiting anxiously to read.

Dearest,

I dreamt of you last night. I dreamt of those eyes so deep I was tempted to swim in them. Of that laugh so melodious I was tempted to turn it into a symphony. Of the lips so sweet I was tempted to kiss them. Alas, I know not if I shall ever reveal myself to you. I know you must be dying to figure me out. But you must understand I couldn’t bear to be rejected by you. You drive me mad! When I am awake, you occupy my every thought, and when I sleep you visit me in dreams! I am a tormented man, but oh, how smitten I am with my torment! I clutch it to my chest and carry it with me wherever I go. How could I not? When it was you who gave it to me. Such a state of delirium is the one you have driven me to, simply by existing. Anyway, all this to say that I love you and always will. Write to me, my love. I’ll be waiting.

You pressed the piece of paper to your heart, beating faster than ever. You folded the letter back and let it fall into your pocket once more before starting for the Bridgerton house. It took every fiber in you to go on with this written affair for months on end without uttering a word to your good friend Daphne. But you felt it was something too precious, too fragile to speak of; like a creature as easily spooked as it is beautiful.

This was what you repeated to yourself in your mind when you arrived at the Bridgertons’, and Daphne swore you had a glow about you only people in love wear.

“Come now, who is it?” she teased as she delicately sipped her tea. “You must tell me!”

You shook your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “There truly is nothing to tell, Daph. You must believe me.”

“Nonsense!” she poked on. “I wish to know the lucky gentleman who has you so obviously smitten.” It was then that the others entered the parlor. Anthony, with Kate on his arm, and Colin and Benedict following suit. “Fill us in on today’s gossip, sister.” jested Benedict as he lounged on the nearest chaise with his usual happy-go-lucky air. How handsome he looked today, his jet black hair shiny as ever, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief.

“There’s nothing to share, you busybody.” Daphne scolded him lightly. “Mind your own affairs.” At this, Benedict shot you a cheeky look, one you couldn’t help but return. You wondered if your secret admirer was as handsome as he was, as sweet and boyish.

“Oh!” Daphne exclaimed suddenly. “I forgot to tell you! We are holding a ball this weekend! Isn’t that exciting?” You felt yourself light up at the news. Exciting indeed. Many things can happen at a ball, dances shared and souls intertwined, and perhaps a certain identity revealed.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton oneshot

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youronlydarlin · 3 months

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warning: kinda sad ANGST, Simon losses you :( , ooc kinda?? But he's soft for you only, trust me bro

This was kinda inspired by that one part in the comics where our poor, Si holds his mums skull, n he jus'... Kinda nuzzles into it. I dunno it just bought on some sad feeling, mkay...

Simon who slightly raises the cup of tea he's drinking each time he has one, just to let you know he's relaxing. Or trying his best too, at least. Doesn't know what he'll do if he worried you from beyond the grave. Sometimes he looks at all the belongings you left behind. Saying how they probably miss you, but not nearly as much as he does.

Unlike some, Simon uses your things. He doesn't want the house to go through the pain of loosing you too. So he drinks from your mug, and sits on your chair. Reads your favorite books, but never takes out the book marks in case you want to continue reading them. He also completes your bucket list for you, and even though he's the one doing them he always whispers 'good job, to the wind, hoping they'll carry the messenge to you.

Simon who speaks to your framed pictures. He remembers each, and every memory behind them. "Bet your happy... Now it'll always be my turn to grab the 'bloody groceries.." he jests. He hopes that one made you laugh. Knowing you, you would've. It's a mystery how you always laughed at his lame jokes. Though your laugh's always been better than the awful punchlines.

Simon who passes by that cafe you bugged him to go with you to, and he feels his throat go dry. He never got to take you there because of a sudden call from Price, telling him about an urgent, albeit sudden, mission. He definitely regrets not taking you out on dates more often. There's so many shops opening that he knows you would've loved to see.

Simon who's heart breaks at how quickly the world turns without you. Everything's moving so quickly, leaving him behind like it's already moved on, and he hates it. He hates how there's less clothes to fold now. Food is served, but only for one. The taste of it is flavorless, and dry. It's times like these, that he wishes he should have took the time and learn your recipes.

But what's worse, is that your side of the bed is cold. And it'll remain that way forever. At times he'll reach for you absentmindedly. Nightmares about war traded for dreams about you, but during those dreamless nights where sleep doesn't visit he'll stroke your pillow the same way he'd do to keep your hair out of your face, and pull the covers over the empty space you once occupied. He wonders if it's cold where you are right now. But just know that he's always willing to warm you up if ever you come back.

Simon who...

Stands at the doorway. Bag slinged over his shoulder, full of everything he needs and more for deployment. He knows he can't leave without properly saying goodbye, so he fishes out his wallet, and digs out a picture of you. He holds it up to his face, and it's funny. How you're not even staring at the camera when the photo was taken. No, you were staring at him. This one's always been his favorite. So he clears his throat, and wishes you don't hear the slight shake in his tone.

"..By now you would've told me to be careful.. And I will, by the way. But, m' sorry for all the times I didn't...'

....

" I have to go now. Don't need them gettin' on my ass for 'being late.. so.."

....

"..You just rest now, ok, love? There's nothing else for you to worry about' anymore. I love you, always. Wish me, and the boys luck, yeah?.."

He gives a light kiss to your photo, and it's as if you're with him when he steps outside the door..

a/n: This was a challenge to write, and I don't know what to feel about the results. I'm just polishing my english, I guess. M'not good at writing angst, you can probably tell, also my grammar feels off on this one, again. English isn't my first language, sorry. So please correct me on any mistakes I've made! But putting all that aside, I hope you like this more than I do! And, always remember that you are loved, and cared for! Have an amazing day, my darlings!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod imagine #cod x reader angst #ghost x reader angst #Ouchy my feelings #call of duty x reader #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader

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perlelune · 4 months

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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | vi.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

An eternity seems to fly by as you wait for Coriolanus to do what you’re too terrified to do on your own. During the agonizing minutes, you picture William’s face. The confusion, the hurt. Tears skip down your cheeks as you curl over the blankets, knees against your chest.

Hopefully your reckless actions haven’t ruined what you two have. Maybe one day, you’ll even jest about it, the pre-wedding jitters that caused you to hide for a week.

It’s the meager hope you cling onto as the soft tap on the door draws you from your thoughts.

Coriolanus nudges the door open, a silver tray between his hands. A matching porcelain kettle and cup sit on the tray.

The mattress sinks as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing the steaming teapot at your bedside. Your gaze drags over the colorful roses painted on the porcelain set.

Tearful eyes rising to his face, you ask “H-How did it go?”

His long fingers drape over your cheek, wiping your tears as he smiles down at you. “Everything’s alright.” His deep soothing voice brings you comfort as it rolls over you. “Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, just like I promised you.” He collects the tea cup from the tray. The steam rising from it caresses your face.

“It’s my own personal blend of chamomile, peppermint and lavender, for your nerves.”

“I don’t need that.”

Concern sways in Coryo’s blue orbs, his thumb collecting another stray tear.

“You had an emotional day. It’ll help you sleep, trust me.”

You don’t reply, laying the side of your face against the pillow. Do you even deserve to sleep soundly after causing the people in your life so much unnecessary distress?

Maybe this is what you deserve, unending nights wrestling with your own mind while you drown in a river of your own tears. After all, if you hadn’t overindulged in alcohol that night, you wouldn’t be here. You still remember the way Coryo described it. Were you truly that desperate to bury Sejanus’ memory, to forget?

Coriolanus strokes the crown of your head.

“I just want you to get one good night of rest. You need it. Do you really want to spend the entire night torturing yourself when you’ve done nothing wrong?”

For a while, silence hangs between the two of you, Coriolanus letting you weep as he patiently cups your face. The aromatic scents of the herbs he mixed in the tea tickle your nose. You have to admit, it smells heavenly. Like peace. The thing you’re craving most at this very moment. For your thoughts and emotions to fall silent, allowing you to drift into a dreamless slumber.

So you surrender.

You sit up and graciously accept the cup Coryo offers you. As soon as the first few drops of the warm liquid coat your tongue, a heady, pleasant feeling swaddles your mind. It makes your body feel heavy, pleasant warm tingles swirling over your flesh.

“I’m starting to feel…”

Coryo’s beaming face starts blurring in your line of sight. Your grip on the cup weakens. He assists you in holding it, tipping the rim against your lips so you gulp another sip.

“Drink more. All of it.” You heed his instruction. The drowsiness grows tenfold. Your lids sag. Your body slumps over the pillows. You feel the soft brush of Coriolanus’s lips on your forehead. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

You awake from the best sleep you’ve had in literal weeks, a wide smile stretching over your lips as you unfurl from the sheets.

Unlike the nights before, you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, crying or tossing and turning in bed.

You pivot to the sun rays spilling from between the curtains. You bask in the rejuvenating warmth kissing your skin. For a while, you stay like that, in awe that your mind isn’t crowded with anxious thoughts. Instead, you’re calm, rested, your head light as feathers. Even your grief is a faint noise when it’s usually so loud, its uproarious presence twisting your heart first thing most mornings.

It’s a newfound serenity you haven’t known in many weeks.

Even the bone-deep ache sitting in your limbs cannot cast a pale on the day. As you step in the rose-scented bath that’s been drawn for you, the soreness lingers. You grimace a little.

Perhaps you slept so heavily, your entire body is tense from it.

But as you lie back and let the hot water work its magic, the pain starts to fade. You let the strange sensation melt away, smiling once more.

You enjoy your bath. A bright, wonderful day awaits you.

When you’re done, you put on one of your favorite day dresses and hop down the stairs.

You find the entire Snow clan having breakfast in the dining room.

Coriolanus peeks from above the morning paper, his face brightening as his gaze flicks over you.

As you approach the empty chair near Grandma’am, Coriolanus rises and pulls it for you.

“Good morning,” you chime while plopping into your seat.

Tigris beams at you. “Good morning. I see someone’s feeling better.”

You tuck your hands into your lap as a maid places a scrumptious plate of eggs and meat in front of you. Your stomach growls at the sight and you pick up your fork, excited to dig into the food. You haven’t had a proper meal since you left Ma and Dad’s house.

Although, even that is a fuzzy memory, as you can’t remember the last time all of you sat down and had a proper breakfast as a family since Janus passed away.

It’s been too hard.

Shoving the fork into your mouth, you acquiesce, “Much better.” You hum as the flavors melt on your tongue.

The corner of Coriolanus’s lip quirk as he observes you. He returns to his seat and bends forward.

“I take it you’ve had a restful night, princess?”

“Yes, and I have you to thank for that. I don’t know what’s in that tea exactly but it works wonders.”

“I’ve had the opportunity to experiment with many natural remedies while working under Dr Gaul.” A glint dances in his blue eyes. “Some plants have the most…fascinating benefits.”

“I think I’ll take some with me home, if you don’t mind. Not just for me but Ma has struggled with sleep ever since…”

Your voice dwindles as an abrupt wave of sadness passes over you.

Tigris grabs your hand and squeezes it across the table.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Coriolanus nods in agreement. “She’s right. Take it one day at a time, princess.”

You ponder what he just said. You are feeling markedly better today, but you loathe thinking about your mom and dad alone.

You swallow a wide lungful.

“Maybe I should go back home tomorrow.”

Coriolanus’ gaze narrows, his smile vanishing momentarily before sliding back into place.

“This early? Shouldn’t you rest a bit more first? It’s clear that you need it.” He studies you for a long time. “You can’t be here for others when you aren’t healed yourself.” You shudder. Sometimes the blond seems to possess the uncanny ability to peer right inside your head. He reaches over the table to place his hand over yours. “Don’t rush it. Like I told you before, our home is your home.”

You don’t find it in yourself to argue, Coriolanus’ gentle yet firm grip on your hand and his smile chasing away your doubts.

“O-Okay.”

Satisfaction glimmers in his gaze at your response.

As Coryo advises, you remain with his family a little while longer. Everyday, he finds gentle words to convince you to extend your stay. It doesn’t take much for you to believe him as you trust him fully, his caring demeanor reminding you of your brother. If Coryo thinks you need a bit more time, he must be right. He only wants what’s best for you.

So a few days turn into a week, which eventually becomes two weeks. Surprisingly, you and the Snows’ daily routines twine with ease. In the morning, you have breakfast together in the dining room. Then you tend to the roses with Grandma’am while she hums songs to herself, an endearing habit you’ve grown quite fond of.

And you usually spend the rest of the day with Tigris, chatting or playing board games, or on your own, reading most of the time. Coriolanus’ library is massive enough to rival the one you have at home. You never run out of things to do in the gigantic penthouse, even sometimes cleaning and cooking to pass the time, efforts Coriolanus never fails to praise you for.

Whenever he returns home to a spotless house or one of your delicious meals, his blue eyes light up with happiness.

And of course, at night, Coryo talks to you in your bed while you dutifully drink your tea, regaling you with stories about his apprenticeship and the University. Most of the time, you never get to learn how they end because you fall asleep.

Thanks to Coriolanus’ herbal mixture, your sleeping schedule is back to relative normalcy. The only downsides are the tea’s peculiar side effects, as near everyday you wake up sore and aching. But the slight inconvenience is minor compared to the benefits you’ve experienced.

All is good and well until one day glimpses of lost memories flash in your brain.

You’re starting to remember the night of Clemensia’s party.

It first happens as you’re gardening with Grandma’am. You’re watering one of the rose bushes when something rushes back to you, something so vivid the watering can in your hand clatters to the ground.

You stumble back, your breaths quickening. Placing a hand between your shoulder blades, Grandma’am helps you find your way to a nearby bench. You collapse atop the bench, your mind whirling.

Her wrinkled features crease in concern.

“Are you alright, sweet girl? Should we call a doctor?”

“I’m fine, grandma’am. Just got dizzy for a bit.”

You smile, hating that you just lied to the older woman. You’re not fine. You’re starting to remember things, things that don’t match up, make no sense.

Terrible things.

I knew you’d feel just perfect around me.

Chills bounce across your spine. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the bench as your breath flows back to your lungs.

You come to a decision.

You need to talk to Coriolanus.

Your brows squeeze together in frustration as the balding man checks your pulse and shines a light in your eyes again. It’s the third time tonight. Coriolanus insisted upon it.

“I told you there was no need for a physician, Coryo.”

“Grandma’am said you almost passed out,” the blonde retaliates.

You heave out a deep exhale as you glance at Tigris and Grandma’am standing nervously by the wall. They’re wearing the same concerned expression.

You wished Grandma’am hadn’t made such a big deal of your little moment in the garden. You feel fine…well, physically at least.

You flash a feeble smile at Coriolanus.

“I didn’t…it was just a dizzy spell. Nothing honestly.”

Brows knitting, he turns to the bespectacled older man at his side.

“Doctor?”

As the man nearly approaches you again, you shoot him a warning glare. You refuse to be poked and prodded once more. Lifting his hands, the man falls back.

He adjusts the stethoscope around his neck.

“I see nothing wrong,” he says. Your shoulders sag in relief. “Still, I’d recommend that your wife takes it easy, sir.”

His words make every hair on your skin stand on end.

“I’m not his wife,” you snap.

Coriolanus’ jaw ticks.

He turns to the others and instructs, “Everyone, leave us alone.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation on Tigris’ face. She lingers at your doorstep after Grandma’am and the doctor take their leave.

“Are you really sure that you’re okay?” she asks.

You purse your lips. “I’d feel better if everyone stopped fussing over me.”

She nods before leaving as well.

As soon as the door to your bedroom closes, Coriolanus sinks to one knee in front of you. He takes your hands in his, his thumbs brushing circles into your skin.

His cobalt eyes are wide and worried.

“Is something wrong?”

Your stomach knots. “Coriolanus…”

“Yes?”

You draw your hands back, placing them on your lap. His gaze tracks the tiny motion and he squints.

“That night…” You lick your lips, nerves flaring as your fingers bounce. Just these two words have Coriolanus’ attention on you sharpen in a way that turns your blood to ice. Still you gather your courage and continue, “Did I say no at any point, tried to…stop it? Did…Did you, Coryo?”

The moment your doubts are uttered aloud, you loathe yourself. It’s an awful thing to even suggest. But you can't shake the feeling that there is something Coriolanus isn’t telling you.

And maybe you always felt that way, like something isn’t quite right, but you craved so badly to have a piece of your brother near that you ignored the glaring signs.

Shock paints Coriolanus’ handsome face.

“What? I already told you everything that happened, that I was drunk, we both were.”

You peer at Coriolanus. It hurts. So goddamn much. A knife twisting in your chest, again and again. Especially that look of utter betrayal on his face. You don’t want to casually toss those kinds of accusations at your friend.

But your mind…

It’s bursting at the seams, moments you’re beginning to recall seeping through the cracks. You can’t ignore that. Not the sick echo of Coriolanus’ lustful tone. Not the terrifying glint swaying in his blue eyes. Not the way he panted and grunted above you as you told him to stop. Or at least you think you told him?

You’re not even sure. You’re torn. Coriolanus wouldn’t do that…right? Someone you trust. Someone Sejanus trusted…with you.

Tears swell in your eyes, threatening to break past the confine of your lashes.

Anger flashes in Coriolanus’ eyes. “Really?” he scoffs, bolting to his feet. “You don’t trust me?”

He blurs in your tear-stained vision, distorting to hazy colors you don’t recognize anymore.

“Coryo…” you sob.

He hunkers in front of you again. The anger vanishes, making space for disappointment and sadness.

He cradles your face, his tone softening.

“I would never hurt you,” he mumbles. “How could you even imply…after everything I’ve done for you.”

A shaky breath flutters through your lips. You search Coriolanus’ face, hoping to find something. A truth, an emotion, a lie. Anything, really. Any proof that you’re not crazy, that your mind isn’t just spinning wild stories out of thin air.

Nothing comes up. Coriolanus’ face is a perfect mask of genuine concern and sincerity, right down to his glistening gaze. Doubts even begin to creep inside you beneath his intense stare.

But the longer you look into his eyes, the more unnerved you grow.

Something is off. No one can convince you otherwise. Not anymore.

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“I-I think I need to go home now, Coriolanus.”

You don’t want to be here anymore, in this house you don’t know, with this man…you’re beginning to realize you don’t know either.

You want to be back home, your real home. You crave the safety of your own bed, of Ma’s warm embrace, of the familiar walls of your childhood home.

Instead of acknowledging what you just said, Coriolanus flashes you a bright grin.

“We can discuss it tomorrow.”

A sinking feeling spreads through you. You frown.

“But Coryo-”

He leans to place a tender kiss on your forehead and you freeze. Every cell in your body longs to flinch away from him but gut-gripping fear keeps you in your spot.

“Tomorrow, princess,” he whispers. He fondles your cheek. You can’t tamp down your shudder. Coriolanus’ brow pinches as he gets to his feet. “It’s getting late. You should go to bed.”

Coriolanus heads for the door.

“Sweet dreams,” he coos, smiling. But it doesn’t reach his eyes.

When the door slams shut, a sound you never heard before echoes from outside. The sound of a key slotting and turning inside a lock. The kind of sound suggesting you’re now trapped in the room.

Your gut sinks.

You find yourself wondering; will tomorrow ever come?

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas fanfiction

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optimist-pine · 1 month

Text

Granny

Summary: You and Daryl have a secret confusing love language of insults

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,236

Era: Seasons 1-5(ish), The quarry - Alexandria

It had started shortly after your first encounter with Mr. Dixon. Simply a passing (slightly pointed) comment - nothing more - as some of you gathered around the fire that night.

Dale stands near the flames, removing a whistling pot from the heat. "Anybody want a cup of tea? Kettle's hot."

"Why dun'cha ask granny over there?" Daryl suggests, nodding towards you with a snigger. Merle's not around tonight, and so it seems he's found a way to create a bit of entertainment.

Your head snaps up when you realize you're the butt of the joke, hands stilling as you set down your work. A crochet hook or knitting needles find their way into your hands as often as that damn crossbow ends up in his; usually when it's too late in the evening to be doing anything else. "You know what? I would love a cup of tea. Thank you, Dale." You reply, taking the steaming mug that's passed to you with a smile that melts into a pointed glare the second Daryl's eyes meet yours.

The corner of his mouth twitches mischievously. "Somebody get out tha' fancy china an' the biscuits an' we'll have ourselves a real tea party." He's prodding the coals with a stick, and in the darkness, the slope of his shoulders brings to mind the image of a caveman. The thought amuses you.

You nod your head, contemplating. "Hmm... I'd be down for that. In fact, I have a feeling we might even be in the presence of a tea party expert." You say knowingly. Sophia and Carol sit cuddled up to your right, and the little girl looks curiously up at you, cradling a well-loved teddy bear. You turn to the child, lowering your voice. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about tea parties, would you?"

She curls into herself a little, shyly. But at her mother's gentle urging, she nods her head, a tiny smile appearing on her face.

You clap your hands together. "It's settled then! Tomorrow we shall have a tea party." The last part is aimed at Daryl - you feel proud of yourself, but the confused look on his face makes you question why. It's like you've taken his accusation as a challenge to prove just how grandmotherly you can be, and funnily enough, he's probably right. You're actually looking forward to hanging out with Sophia tomorrow; she's a pretty cool kid.

Carol tuts softly. "After school." She adds.

"After school." You agree, shooting Sophia a conspiratorial wink.

Every time Daryl spots you working with your yarn he can't resist the urge to tease you about it. Maybe it's because you take every jest in good humor, or maybe it's because you always have a quick, witty comeback. He's never quite figured it out, but somehow it's become a staple of your interactions. Even though so much has changed, he's oddly glad that this hasn't.

One night, in the dead of winter, as the wind howls through gaps in the window frames you get an ornery glint in your eye. Daryl's already found your behavior suspicious, whatever current yarn project you've been committed to hasn't made a single appearance the entire evening. And the way you keep glancing at him almost nervously is... unsettling.

When he looks up again you're walking towards him, hands tucked behind your back, trying so hard to look casual that it doesn't take long before all eyes are on you. You stop in front of him and promptly shove a box in his face. No, not just a box. It's a present, wrapped perfectly in polka-dotted gift wrap with a glittery bow to top it all off.

He stares back at you, wondering what punchline he's missed.

You roll your eyes. "It's a gift, Daryl."

"Why?" He asks. He'd trust you with his life any day, but right now - with that box - he absolutely does not.

"Well, why don'tcha just open it and find out?" You taunt, shaking the present just a smidge.

He takes the box, feeling awkward and clumsy as he tears away the paper. Having never opened a present before - at least nothing like this that is - feelings of stupidity and excitement and pressure blend within him.

He dumps the object into his palm. It's cool and smooth to the touch; a black mug with white writing that says "World's Crankiest Grandpa".

You're trying so hard to withhold from laughing that your face is turning pink.

"Think ya could get yer money back on this one?" He asks, spinning the cup around to critique it.

You slap his arm lightly. "Ah, Dixon, you're no fun."

"She might'a hit the nail on the head there." Rick chuckles.

You sit back down, finally pulling out your yarn like all is now right in the world. "Ah, I found it a couple days ago. Couldn't resist. S'pecially not after the dream I had where you were yellin' at the walkers to 'git offa yer damn lawn'..." You shudder. "Took me a bit to get that one outta my head."

That earns quite a few laughs from the rest of the group. Once again, you've managed to lift the mood of those around you. It seems to be a habit of yours.

He turns the mug over and over again, running his thumb across the letters. He knows it's only a gag gift, but he's not blind to the effort that went into it. And it's not an exaggeration to say that this silly mug is by far the most thoughtful gift he's ever received.

He hangs onto that mug, using it proudly every day. Of course, it garners the occasional question from the new folks, but he doesn't mind. Soon enough he's got a matching handmade hat, scarf, and gloves as proof of your continuing love for the grandmotherly hobby.

When the prison falls he misses those gifts severely.

But then, Alexandria. The day he comes across you there on the porch in a creaky rocking chair, with your cup of steaming tea and a ball of yarn, the once-familiar urge to say something a little stupid and a lot annoying takes over.

He stoops down and leans in. "Where's yer glasses at, old lady?"

You wave your hand to shoo him away. "Ah, git yer muddy boots off'a my porch ya ol' geezer." You nag, the smile you're trying to hide peeking out like a sun ray from behind storm clouds. He holds his hands up in mock surrender, clomping down the steps. But it's not like he's trying to hide his own smile or anything... Not at all.

When he returns home that evening, there, sitting on the end of his bed, is a small box. It's perfectly wrapped in paper that's covered in birds and trees, encircled with a pristinely hand-tied bow. He can't deny the flutter of excitement as he plops down to unwrap it. It's like Deja Vu, the coffee mug tumbling into his palm. This time it's white with black lettering that reads "I don't always roll a joint, but when I do, it's my ankle".

With a snort he falls back onto the bed, letting old memories wash away the burdens of the day. However he can, whatever it takes, he'll hold onto the hope that you'll both end up old and gray and worn someday - together.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd season 1 #twd season 2 #twd season 3 #twd season 4 #twd season 5 #optimist pine

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sim0nril3y · 17 days

Text

Revenge

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: I'm sorry for this one, but just a silly little imagine after writing that angst. So, after smacking Simon's bum playfully he decides to find his own revenge which spirals chaotically. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), playful spanking, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, canon-typical swearing.

What was he going to prepare for dinner tonight? Simon was standing looking into the vast emptiness of the fridge, the empty shelves mocked him, the lonely jar of marmite smirked and jested whilst he stood there arms crossed, stance wide as if he was going to tackle the appliance any moment to try and find its secrets and hidden compartments.

From behind he heard you shuffling into the kitchen, placing down your long finished mug of tea and approaching him slowly. “Love-” Whack~ A rouge hand struck his butt making him jolt a little in surprise. It hadn’t hurt. The act alone had just shocked him into a stunned silence. From behind you cackled laughing, especially as he turned slowly to finally face you. “What?” You snickered, covering your mouth with your hand.

Those dark eyes of his narrowed, looking at you with a calculative glare, jaw set and muscles wound tight. “There’s nothing in the fridge.” He continued his long abandoned sentence before his rear had been struck. “I’m gonna order a take-away.” He bit out, before stepping around you. Realistically the only thing left on Simon’s mind was revenge.

It was a few evenings later after a steamy showered before bed when you were hanging up some clothes into the cupboard you shared. Now, shared was probably a loose term when it came to the cupboard, as a good portion of it was made up of your pretty dresses, skirts, trousers, blouses and jumpers a whole cascade of shoes beneath. Then shoved to the side was a measly bit of space for Simon’s clothing.

Thwhack! A sudden strike on your own rear sent you whole body hurdling forward into the cupboard, body pressed and clinging to the hanging clothes to keep your unbalanced body upright. “Ow!” You yelped; your voice muffled between the clothes. Turning your face and seeing Simon looming behind you, arms crossed and proud smirk on his face. “What the fuck?” You squeaked. “Just a little payback, love.”

As you leant there, your eyes widened. “For bloody what?!” You huffed, trying to push yourself up. “For smacking your bum like a week ago?!” You growled. “I didn’t send you headfirst into the fridge, Simon and I certainly didn’t smack you that hard…” You vented and this only caused him to chuckle. “It wasn’t that hard-” “It wasn’t soft either. I bet it’ll bruise…”

“Let me check.” The words came out quick and before you knew it Simon was tugging down your leggings and knickers to inspect your rear. “Simon!” You squeaked from inside the cupboard still, hands clinging to the fabric of your clothes, creasing them beneath your clenched fingers. “Simon…” You whimpered softly as you felt him kneel behind you, carefully taking the globes of your arse into his hands and stroking them softly. “You’ll be fine, love…” Simon mentioned, carefully pulling them apart, squeezing them, stroking them before placing a few stray kisses to the struck skin. “Want me to make it up to you, babe?”

From inside the cupboard you nodded, whimpering out a soft. “Yes, please.” “So polite…” Simon murmured, pulling carefully on your hips so that your arse stuck out a little further, placing a few kisses to the backs of your thighs, higher and higher causing you to squeak as his face dipped forward to find your soaked cunt, all pretty and leaking for him. “Fuck…” He growled, wanting to start slow and build up but simply unable to hold back as he got a taste of your wonderful juices. They were addictive to him. Once the first drop touched his tongue Simon craved more and more.

From where you were leaning awkwardly into the closet you could simply only cling to your clothes and accept the laps and presses of his tongue and mouth, moaning loudly as his hand slipped around your body to find your clit, massaging it beneath his fingers in tight circles. “Simon~ Simon~ Ohgod~” You cried in pleasure; it was like the air was thick as his hand smacked down playfully against your arse. “Please. Please. Fuck~”

The cry of his name only spurred him on more. Burying his face into your wonting cunt, growling and grunting as he sort to find your end. “There. There. Don’tstop. Don’t stop.” You panted, your body trembling as your end built and built. A second later Simon tugged away, smacking his hand against your rear and causing you to yelp in surprise. “Si, please. Please. Please… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for smacking your bum. I’m sorry. Please.” Without even having to press you for some sort of apology for your day old lapse in judgement you gifted him one, over and over. God, it was difficult to decide what sounded more pretty your beautiful moans or the sound of you succumbing to his will.

“Good girl. Good girl.” Simon smirked, spitting on your cunt and fucking a few fingers into your cunt, shunting the thick digits deep to find your special spot. “You won’t do it again, will you?” “Never. Neveragain. Never. Never.” You chanted, squirming as your knees knocked together from the sudden invasion. “Never. Promise. Pro-aghg…” The final promise caught in your throat your juices soaked his hand, something which Simon would happily clean up.

“There’s my good girl.” Simon chuckled. “There we go…” He coaxed, rubbing your lower back soothingly to coax you through the overwhelming waves of your orgasm. “Good girl. My good fucking girl-”

Now, if he had been able to hear over the sound of your panting and crying out and moans then he probably could have heard an ominous noise from within the cupboard, however that hadn’t been the case and instead was startled when the beam holding up hangers of clothes up cracked from having you probably hanging off it too as you clung to the clothes. It sent you toppling to the ground, clothes burying you on top of the shoes that lay at the bottom.

For a moment he knelt there completely taken back by your half naked body sticking from the cupboard under all that mess, then he acted and quickly tugged it all out of the way, finding your body beneath. “You okay, babe?” He asked quickly. “I’m so bloody good.” You whimpered; face completely dazed with lust.

Masterlist | Ask | 13-04-2024

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 3 months

Text

Dragonfly: Lantern Rite

zhongli/fem!reader

genre: mindless domestic fluff

w.count: 2.2k

a/n: this lil treat is based around the reader/zhongli pair from my fic Dragonfly! (feel free to click through and give it a read hehe) you don't need to read the original material per se, but if you have, then enjoy the immortal couple going to lantern rite together for the first-time! c:

Happy Lantern Rite!

it had been a while since you had migrated from your sealed-off home in the middle of nowhere liyue into the busy liyue harbor at the insistence of zhongli (and shockingly enough xiao). according to both of them, you had spent the last few hundred years stuck in immorality and all alone; you had spent enough time in solitude. now, with your life being revealed to those who mattered to you, it was time to move forward again.

in truth, even with your experience dealing with all sorts of folks from your lifetimes, the move to the harbor was awkward. people would see you practically sticking to zhongli simply because you knew no one else and they would start conversations based soley on the fact that you must be someone he knew. he was much more popular and well-known than you suspected since he was just a mortal man now. it seems his knowledge and need to make things known when they could possibly be told in injustice worked in building his reputation.

the addition of hu tao in your small, new social circle was a burst of energy you had forgotten people had as well. her go-go-go attitude about work and seeming lack of fatigue was almost awe-inspiring. the fact that she was the boss of your archon-turned-mortal lover was just as entertaining; witnessing him try to reign her in as respectfully as possible and sigh heavily when she would flit out of his sight was a pleasantry. it made him feel more well-rounded as a person and not just the age-old archon you had known.

now, it had been about a month.

zhongli had invited you to stay with him since he was absolutely unwilling to let you get too far from him after believing you were dead for so long. he was a collectively calm man with control of his emotions, but any sane person would feel the smallest bit of clinginess- for lack of better terms- in this scenario. perhaps it was his innate instincts kicking in that he usually suppressed; the ones that made him bare his fangs or hiss at intruders on his territory... who could say?

as you sat at the open window of his home up on the second floor, you enjoyed the bustle of noises floating from the harbor and the breeze that greeted you at this height. your night clothes were wrinkled from your night of rest and your hair had only been haphazardly combed back with your fingers. the warm cup of tea in your hand had been brewed just before you took your seat at the window.

even after a month of this, you still couldn't understand how you forgot how peaceful mornings could be when they weren't steeped in lonesome melancholy.

small pads of footsteps invaded your senses and overtook the sound of the harbor before the door to the small tea room opened with a slight creak. one thing you always had zhongli beat at is being able to wake up before him.

his bare feet carry him further into the room before coming to your side and leaning down to kiss the top of your bedhead. the robe he wears slides down his exposed shoulder when he leans and his loose hair brushes against your cheek. his hand cups behind your back and slightly rubs against your shoulders in a warm, welcoming motion before his amber eyes glow in the morning sun mirthfully.

"good morning, my dear." his hand keeps rubbing your back and moves to press into your spine that is still sore from the stillness of sleep. "may i be so bold as to ask to join you?" he always asks the same question as if you'll ever tell him no. you have no doubt he does in simple jest now.

"you may, since i'm feeling generous." with a small chuckle, zhongli shifts his body to sit across from you at the tea table before pouring himself some of your brewed tea.

sitting in the orange morning sun, the veins of gold that run across his body look like rivers flowing on calm land.

"shouldn't you cover up? someone down there could see you," you tease as you take a sip of your cooling tea.

"there's no need," he sips his own steaming cup fresh from the pot. "we're far too high for anyone to take notice of my appearance properly." even if someone did notice his less-than-human traits running over his exposed skin, he'd just blame it on the sun- just a trick of the light.

the mornings were often like this. soft and quiet and slow before he knows he's needed at the funeral parlor and you would soon be needed at your own job. that was one other thing you were insistent on when moving to the harbor with him.

you didn't want to mooch off his paycheck and his home and his space forever, so you were quick to find a job anywhere you could. zhongli wishes you wouldn't have since he strongly thought that you deserved to live lazily and carefree- if not forever then at least for a while longer. still, when you didn't budge on your decision, he was quick to relent as he always was.

you had decided to go with a smaller-scale job and work alongside ying'er and her perfumes at the scent of spring. she was quite the character and when you told zhongli about your prospects of working with her- his slight flash of concern didn't go unnoted. 'she is simply a very... open person,' he had told you. the flirtatious way she often spoke to others was clearly what he was referring to when you got to know her more.

still, you had your pick and decided to stay. odd though she can act, she was a good person and offered you decent pay at easy hours. compared to running around preforming errands along with rites of partings like zhongli and hu tao- this was a pretty safe gig.

you stood outside the perfume shop with zhongli as he was about to start on his way to the funeral parlor. he always insisted on walking you to and from work- the one evening you made it home before he could pick you up was the first time you had ever seen his eyebrows droop in what you would dare to call a pout!

that miniscule pout now dared to tug on his expression this morning too. lantern rite was tonight and when the sun would begin to drop, he would be preoccupied with other tasks and mingling with friends from past and present- he was afraid the social traffic would prevent him from offering you his arm. you had no problem with the circumstances since the shop would be closing early today for lantern rite in the first place. you just told him you'd meet him at the docks before it starts.

it was mostly true; you hadn't found him in time when the lanterns were to be lifted and you instead stood among the crowd of strangers while gaming had performed his wushou dance among the calm waves of the harbor. still, you felt full watching all the festivities firsthand like this- the fulfillment filled you with such warmth. your vantage point atop the long stairs that leads down to the crowded docks gives you a sense of being on top of the world. it felt silly, but so very comforting.

"oh, y/n!" you turn your head to see the traveler and paimon coming your way, paimon waving her arm enthusiastically in the air. she then proceeds to float around you in awe of your attire. "wow! you look so pretty!" her cheeks tint as you feel yourself become the smallest bit bashful.

"well, it's my first lantern rite. i thought i should dress up a little for the occasion." wearing a styled hanfu of soft colors that easily complemented zhongli's color scheme, you picked up the skirt before letting it flutter back around your legs.

this was another reason you were okay with zhongli not being able to escort you. while it would've been wonderful to be with him the whole event, the idea of this small surprise of you all gussied up made your cheeks warm.

"you smell good too," paimon's comment made you burst out a small laugh since it was so unprompted. you clear your throat as she cups he chin with her finger. "why does your perfume smell so familiar?"

"it was a gift from ying'er. she told me it would 'suit my tastes', i suppose."

"ying'er," paimon's brows crunch in intense thought before the traveler placed their arms on their hips.

"remember the rite of parting for rex lapis, paimon?" paimon snaps her fingers and points at the blond.

"that's it!" she turned back to you to explain. "during the rite of parting, we offered perfumes up to rex lapis! this is the one that seemed to really resonate with the statue of seven. what was it- uh, something, something dusk... mist..? agh! paimon can't remember clearly." you chuckle at her.

"it's called golden house maiden. according to ying'er it's favored by the more mature crowd. the gentle scent makes it easier on me to wear since anything too strong really isn't my thing." looking at your wrist where you sprayed a small portion of it on your skin before applying it to your throat and neck, you feel yourself get hot all over again knowing it was favored by rex lapis. "anyway, are you two going to enjoy the event?"

"mmhnn!" paimon hums. "we just got back from visiting xiao, so now paimon's going to eat all sorts of delicious food!"

you shoot the traveler a sly grin before they were clearing their throat and looking away from you. oh, young love- how precious.

"so, where's zhongli anyway? normally he's hovering around you like a fly when you're not working!"

"he isn't that bad," you chuckle. "i'm meeting him in a bit. i was actually on my way down. if you'd like we can walk together?"

"sure!" paimon agrees while the traveler nods and soon you're all walking down the stairs to the warmly lit lanterns and the decorative float of one of the past yakshas. with you walking in front of the two travel companions, they both opened their mouths in silently 'ooo's at the sight of your hair all done up with a single hair stick- one they're familiar with. "they're so cute," paimon whispers to the traveler who easily agrees.

before too long, you're greeted by the bustling partygoers of lantern rite and was even offered a small lantern charm that you happily except from a passing sales pitcher.

"oh!" paimon pipes up before pointing through the crowd. "there he is!" she spots zhongli with hu tao nearby a table of small tea cups. he mentioned that he often watched the fireworks with her during events such as these. "zhongli!" paimon called, parting the crowd while you and the blond followed behind.

zhongli was glad he wasn't holding a teacup or standing up when you finally graced him with your presence. if he had, he knows he would've dropped the cup or lost his footing.

he stared at you in a daze when you offered a kind greeting to hu tao who was fussing over how pretty you looked just as much as paimon did. as if your looks weren't enough, the scent of your perfume wafted into his sense and if he were any less of a man he would've grabbed your wrist and dragged you off by now. the god of old was thankful the night was dark and light dim so no one could notice his blown wide pupils that took you in. when you finally look at him, he swallows hard.

"sorry for keeping you waiting so long. i know i said i'd be here before the event started, but i got a bit time blind... ironically enough." zhongli stood from his spot at the round table and found his voice.

"it was no trouble at all." his eyes catch sight of your hair and gently brings his hand up to cup around the dangling jewels hanging off the wings of your dragonfly hair stick. "it was clearly very much worth the wait."

"aiya, you two love birds sure are something else," hu tao sighs dreamily at you. she was no hopeless romantic or anything, but seeing zhongli so smitten was something was quite the sight to behold. "go! enjoy the festivities and relax!" her soft voice was encouraging as she pushes zhongli's back to get him moving.

zhongli offers you his arm, which you take before showing him your small little lantern charm you received while you both walked off together. the party of three you were leaving behind of hu tao, paimon and the traveler all smiled at your backs.

"they make a good couple," traveler says. the other two agree with no argument.

and although it's a little late, zhongli takes you out to the statue of seven just outside of the harbor and releases a lantern with you in solitude. while you watched it float into the air far behind its other lantern brethren, zhongli was latched onto your back, hands on your hips and his face in your neck.

this perfume really was favored by rex lapis after all.

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #zhongli fluff #zhongli fic #zhongli fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact x reader #zhongli headcanons #zhongli scenarios #genshin imagines #zhongli imagines

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melonn-soda · 2 months

Note

If you’re accepting requests? Then may I please request a Ayato Kamisato x Male reader? Where Reader has been secretly harbouring feeling for Ayato, but they aren’t able to confess their feeling and the harsh reality that the reader isn’t of any high lineage: they just have a Dendro vision. Also a rumor has been going around, saying that Ayato is to marry a noble. So the reader resigns their feeling for Ayato, secretly wishing him a happy marriage and life. Soon after a few weeks come to past, and the reader hears that they are going to be in arrange marriage with a former warlord. But the reader is actually happily okay with it, since it will help his family live in peace. But… its not long before Kamisato siblings receives an invitation to the wedding.

❝ IT'S YOUR WORLD AND I'M NOT IN IT... ❞

word count: 2.6k

warning(s): kamisato ayato / male reader. angst. nothing else I can think of.

prompt: in the ask above but with some slight altercations.

notes: this will be a multi-part story. sorry for the long wait :(( I haven't been doing so hot when it comes to writing

fem aligned dni

The wind tasted of salt as it brushed through the foliage and structures of the Kamisato household. If this had been your first time being here, you would’ve grimaced at flavor but you’ve visited far too many times to care now. The tang of the sea’s salt had become a welcoming presence on your tongue over the course of these years, forever stained with the sugar of the sweet flowers in your tea.

Speaking of, a tray with a tea set on top of it was placed in the middle of the table, the person who had brung it welcoming himself into the conversation you were having with the man across the table. Thoma, an outlander who was shunned for his presence alone only now to be held as a handsome charmer and a respected member of the Kamisato household. He was also practically best friends with the man you were talking to.

Thoma says your name with familiarity, just as he does with Ayato, a pleasant smile resting on his pale yet reddish lips, “it’s been a while since I’ve last seen you. How’ve you been?” The question was unneeded- especially for someone like you, but it was sweet nonetheless.

“I’ve been better, to be fair.” You answered him, eyes trained on the teacup that rests on the saucer, watching the liquid ripple at every little movement made. Closing your eyes slowly for a moment, a sigh leaves your lips before they open again, fixed on the housekeeper that sat on your right, “My mother has been pressuring me to court someone for these past few weeks, hearing her voice has never been tiring but now I think I may reconsidering.”

A breathy, amused laugh leaves Ayato’s mouth and Thoma just looks at you. The blond’s eyebrow then raises, an awkward smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, “You’re looking at me like you want me to be the one to court you.”

You groan, letting go of the professional demeanor you were keeping intact, “By all seven Archons forbid you be the one to court me.” the jest causes Thoma to chuckle, “we are nothing more than schoolgirls who giggle over the latest gossip around the courtyard.”

“That I cannot argue.” Thoma agrees, bringing one of the teacups to his lips. Your wording was not false since the Kamisato housekeeper and you have exchanged the latest drama that you both had managed to get your gossip-ridden hands on each time you managed to bump into each other. Did it kindle a mischievous kind of friendship? Yes. Was the reasoning for it good? Maybe not.

“Haa..” You breathe out, folding your arms across your chest, “I just needed a good reason to get out of the house today.. thank you, Master Kamisato, for letting me reside here for a few hours.” You tipped your head down in respect to the commissioner; after all, you were nothing more than a commoner.

Ayato’s hand raises and waves slightly, “No need to thank me, it’s always nice to catch up with you. Oh, and please drop the formalities. We aren’t in public, remember?” He tells you, which causes your face to flare with heat in embarrassment. Sometimes, you forget that you’re friends with a government official and that within his private premises, he is no longer the Yashiro Commissioner but Ayato. Just Ayato.

“Forgive me.” You mutter and Thoma takes notice at the hint of adoration behind your tone. He knows. He knows everything because he’s your friend, who you spill all sorts of secrets to. If not for your flushed pleading, he would’ve told his master long ago and the two of you probably could’ve been courting by now.

A small crow flutters within the Kamisato residence and kicks up some resting dust with its wings before landing onto your left forearm. It had a small note tied to its scrawny foot, which you gingerly untied to read. The two looked at you curiously as you skimmed the contents on the ripped piece of paper and an exasperated sigh left your lips momentarily.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave.” Your lips drew back in a distasteful snarl, standing up and brushing off non-existent particles from the lap of your kimono. The crow slid up to your left shoulder, resting there and hiding its feet within its puffed chest feathers, “My mother wants me to go pick up some groceries before sundown, I guess I’ll see you both again some other time. Until then.”

You bowed respectfully to the both of them, turning to leave the residence. Thoma and Ayato’s eyes continued to linger on your figure as you made your way out, steps slow to signify the dread of going home with each drag of your foot against the rock pathway. Ayato almost wondered if you would be able to handle the scolding of your mother, only for it to be stopped as the tinker of teacups messed with his train of thought.

“For a man with such a nice family, it’s such a shame to see him so insistent on not going home.” Thoma’s voice rings pleasantly in Ayato’s ears, seeing him clean up the area you sat in, “Maybe his family is a lot more pushy on courting than anything else. Ah, but I guess that gives him more of an excuse to visit here more often. After all, it’s certainly a blessing for a commoner’s son to be friends with the Lord Commissioner, they wouldn’t be against their son to visit someone so powerful.”

His flattery certainly does not go undismissed, as Ayato could feel his cheeks heat up, “Please don’t speak of me so highly.” The shade of red that decorates his cheeks disappears as quickly as it comes, a breath of disappointment leaving his lungs, “I hope he finds his destined path of love well.”

When Ayato says this, Thoma just stares. Gaze unwavering and limbs not doing their familiar routine of cleaning up that it’s almost scary because he just stares at Ayato. So bad, he wants to tell the political figure that it’s him that you’re in love with. But, he keeps his promise to not tell him because you would for sure rip out Thoma’s windpipe if he dared to do so.

Finally, the housekeeper tears his eyes away from the higher up, bowing his head and taking the dishes away from the zataku to clean them. Thoma wants you to be happy and he also wants Ayato to be happy too. You nor the commissioner himself notices but it’s obvious how much Ayato relaxes in your presence to Thoma. He’s so fed up on how the two of you keep beating around the bush with longing stares, awkward laughter, and stuttering embarrassment to the point where he wants to scream at you both to just kiss already.

It even gets Thoma thinking: how can Ayato notice everything about the Kamisato housekeeper but not acknowledge how obviously smitten you were when it comes to him? Thoma had his suspicions beforehand and received five thousand mora from Yoimiya the day you decided to confront Thoma about your love for the Lord commissioner.

He so desperately wants to give that push to set you two up but he doesn’t want to go against your wishes, so he’ll just wait. Patience is rewarded, after all.

An exhausted groan seethes through your teeth as you trudge down the rock pathways, shoulder beginning to numb from the weight of the paper bag’s straps pulling down on your arm. The crow shrieks in your ear to hurry up before the fruit rots, into which you swat the bird with your free hand. You miss, of course, because it takes off the second your hand raises. It continues to squawk loudly, probably alerting the nearby residents with its shrill cries.

“Quit yapping, will you!?” You shout at the bird, throwing one of the many green onions in your grocery haul in its direction. The crow darts to the side with a mocking caw, diving down to fetch the vegetable before it hits the ground and swerving back to smack the side of your face with it. You growl in frustration, grabbing the green onion and using it to point at the bird, “Listen, if you don’t shut your beak, I’ll plant watermelon seeds into your stomach and use your stomach acid as water with your muscle being the dirt!”

The crow goes quiet at such a threat, a quiet chitter of obedience sputtering from it. You huff at the accomplishment of getting the bird to finally shut up, faltering when you hear whispers coming from the opened window sills. Your fingers twitch at the idea of more juicy gossip to share with Thoma, shuffling yourself so that you were under the window, just close enough to hear what the girls in the building were talking about.

“The Yashiro Commissioner!? Really..?” Her voice quickly shushes at the last word and by the way her voice begins to muffle, you take a gander that the tips of her fingers are pressed against her lips in surprise. At the mention of your friend, you're more confused than invested. ‘What did Ayato get into..?’ You think, deciding that the answer will soon spill from the ladies the more you listen.

“Yeah, I was shocked too.. I didn’t think that he would ever decide something like that. Especially considering... you know.” You weren’t sure what the other lady was hinting at but you would think it was related to his authoritative position, “But you know her, she’s never been one to lie! Everything she says has been true which makes her really credible.”

You press your back harder against the wall, the crow cocking its head in confusion. Before it could even chirp a complaint, a vine crawled up from the wall and wrapped around the bird’s beak, your vision glowing angrily. It understood the memo and its wings slumped in frustration, knowing it’ll be a while before you pry it off.

“I wish I was a noble.. anyone would be lucky to capture the heart of Kamisato Ayato. At least he found a person of his status to marry to.” Then everything began clicking the more you didn’t want it to, your heart dropping into shattered pieces like a glass cup hitting a wooden floor, “I can’t believe she managed to charm such a handsome man. Lucky~. So, so lucky.”

You can hear her voice swoon and your head does too but not in a positive way. You think you’re going to be sick. Every decision in your life was reflected on and criticized within seconds of standing there in shock. ‘Ayato is getting married. Did I even have a chance?’ If only you confessed earlier, if only you were just the slightest bit more obvious about your feelings, if only you let Thoma tell Ayato about how you felt about him, if only you tried just a smidge harder, if only- if only.. if only... if only you weren’t such a coward.

Feathers brushed against your cheek in what you assumed to be pity. Then, you realized the onslaught of tears dripping from your bottom eyelashes. Like shards of the rarest crystal marrow, they fell and continued to fall.

With a shaky step forward, you walked away from the window, small shrubbery growing beneath your feet. You didn’t want to listen anymore. All the information was clear. Ayato was going to marry and the person walking down the aisle wasn’t going to be you. The small hiccuping sob coming from yourself was dull in your ears as you trudged home, the crow shuffling closer to your face on your shoulder, reassuring you by nuzzling its beak into your hair.

When you got home that night, your mother was about to playfully scold you for coming home late but immediately faltered when she saw you crying at the doorstep with flowers sprouting at your feet. She rushed to your side and began wiping your tears after setting the bag of groceries down, then letting you sit down on the tatami mats. She was about to pluck the flowers from the wooden floors so they wouldn’t splinter too deeply into the wood before recognizing what type of flowers they were. Bleeding hearts. She glanced at you from over her shoulder and frowned. ‘That’s why you were hesitant about courting.’

…

It has been a few days since you found out about Ayato. You cried for a while.. well, for 4 hours straight before you passed out and awoke to the sun shining on your face, unwelcomed and irritating. However, cooping yourself up in your house was definitely not healthy and as much as you didn’t want to face the outside world just yet, you laid on the tatami mats contemplating whether or not to get up. In the end, your mother ushered you to go get some fresh air, telling you that “your skin will break out in acne if you don't bask in the sunlight.”

Footsteps slow, your head was hung as low as your eyebags, geta dragging against the rocky walkways. Inazuma City was as bustling as always, people chattering happily, the sounds of food sizzling within restaurants, merchants promoting anything new within their shops.. all of this was just your everyday encounters. Everything sounds so annoying now. All the noises are causing a headache but that was mostly because this was the aftermath of crying for so long. You wanted to go back home but you’re pretty sure your mother is still home and will shoo you away if you were to even be six meters nearby.

Lady Luck must also not be on your side today because your gaze was so fixed on the floor you didn’t even notice there was someone in front of you. A flash of expensive shoes was not enough of a warning as your forehead bumped into the back of the person. This person, however, must have such an impressive build because you recoiled while they didn’t even budge.

Just as you were about to apologize, you looked up and caught a glimpse of light blue hair that made you freeze. Your jaw closed and screwed itself shut, forcing you to keep that quiet “sorry” locked behind your teeth. The one person you didn’t want to confront just yet, was standing in front of you, a plastic cup filled with milk tea in his hands.

Feet shuffling to dodge his line of sight, you were certainly not fast enough to dodge his attention because he says your name in that same sickly, sweet voice you fell in love with. You almost want to punch him. It seems stupid, yes, but you are angry at yourself and you want to take it out on something. You could never be mad at Ayato, though. It’s not even his fault either way but your love for him will blind you by gouging out your eyes from their sockets.

Reluctantly, your body turns to him but your gaze doesn’t do the same, finding the onikabuto that crawls pathetically on the ground much more appealing to the eye. Probably because it’s currently reminding you of yourself. Fingers digging into your palm, you finally decide to acknowledge his presence, a small “Lord Kamisato..” rasping out of your mouth.

Now, Ayato doesn’t seem to notice a lot about your behavior if Thoma is telling the truth, but the way you say his title in a pained tone does not go past his head. Then, and only then, does he see the dry streak of tears highlighting your face and his whole world stops.

love that guy

#male reader #x male reader #genshin impact x reader #x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #kamisato ayato x male reader #angst

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sunnebeam · 9 months

Text

fall from grace.

DRABBLE.

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

warnings: smut (are we even surprised at this point? as usual, minors do not interact), unprotected sex (bc of the time period, but in this day & age please use protection), royal au, mentions of actively trying for a child, other warnings withheld due to possible spoilers

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: finally!!! this cute lil drabble completes my 'smut with storylines' collection (which is basically just an unofficial collection of smutty drabbles i wrote for each member lol). anyways, enjoy reading and don't forget to share ur thoughts! ^^

The kingdom's people call you the Peasant Queen.

Some say it in jest, some say it with affection. But you believe a majority say it in disdain.

A lowly peasant as the Queen? A former palace servant as the King's beloved wife? A complete disgrace!

A number of people chalk it up to a love potion. Others point to a curse. Some say you resorted to black magic to bewitch the King. And the crazier the theory becomes, the more they pin the blame on you.

But in truth, you never wanted to become the Queen. Never asked to be and never expected to be. But your husband, King Taehyung, always knew you were going to be one.

"Is everything to your liking, my love?"

You turn your head to your husband's voice, your eyes softening when you see his boxy smile. You nod at his question, turning your gaze back to the windows of your shared chambers, where you can see from a distance the extravagant floral arrangements you had insisted on for the palace gardens.

"Everything is perfect, my King," you respond, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and his hard chest against your back.

"Good," he says simply. As long as you're happy, he supposes he can be happy as well.

"Thank you, my King," you suddenly say, turning in his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you for helping me commemorate today's significance."

His smile hardens but you don't notice.

"Of course, my love."

Your smile widens.

"He would have loved the flowers," you mumble, your smile never faltering.

His eye twitches but you don't catch it.

"I'm sure he would have, my love," he murmurs. "After all, he always used to love what was mine."

"What was that, my King?"

"Nothing, my love," Taehyung mutters then leans his forehead against yours. The both of you stay like that for a few moments, quiet and leaning against each other, before he asks you, "Have you drank your tea for the day?"

Warmth rushes to your cheeks at the mention of the tea that's supposed to help with fertility and conception. You nod, confirming that you have indeed already drank the concoction.

He smirks, his hands reaching for your garment and removing it from your body. The action still makes you bashful no matter how many times he's done it before.

"Still so shy, my Queen?" he teases you while he's removing his own garments.

"I can't help it, my King," you gasp when he pulls you to him, your naked bodies pressing against each other. "I have never been with another man. I have only ever laid with you, and yet you always manage to make me act so... salacious."

Taehyung always loves to be reminded that he's the first man to have taken your innocence. But on days like these, when the garden looks so decorated upon your insistence and the day holds so much significance to you, your words leave a slight bitter taste in his mouth.

Because he was almost not your first. It was almost not him.

"And I'm the only man to see you in such state, my love," he growls, his fingers reaching down to prep your womanhood. When he sees that you're ready for him, he spits on his hand and coats his cock with the wetness before sliding inside you. "Never forget that. Ever."

"I won't, my K-King," you stutter when he starts thrusting in and out. "You're my first..."

A harsh thrust.

"...you're my last..."

And another.

"...and you're my only."

He groans in pleasure and satisfaction, placing his hands on the underside of your knees to lift you up and wrap your legs around him. You, in turn, wrap your arms around his neck and let him carry your full weight with ease.

"That's right, my Queen," he says with conviction, bouncing you up and down on his dick, letting gravity heighten the pleasure for both of you. "I'm your husband. Your King. Me."

Not him, he adds internally.

Because although you've been married to Taehyung for two years now, the thought of him still pops up every now and then. Although you've been Taehyung's wife for two years now, you still decorate the garden with flowers to commemorate his birthday. And although you've been Taehyung's beloved Queen for two years now, you still talk about him from time to time.

"I love you, my King," you whimper when your husband angles your body in mid-air and his thrusts start to reach deeper spots inside you. "I love you so much!"

She loves me, Taehyung chants internally. Not him, not him, not him.

Your King pounds into you with renewed vigor, making you scream wantonly in delight. Your pussy tingles with each movement, clenching around his fat dick uncontrollably.

It doesn't take long before you're creaming around him, your juices gushing and making it easier for him to continue fucking you through your climax. Just as you're coming down from your high, he spills inside you, his member twitching inside you and keeping you plugged up.

Taehyung promptly carries you to the bed, laying you down gently and placing a pillow underneath your lower half. He then pulls out of you slowly, and when he's completely out, he inserts two fingers inside you, making sure not a single drop comes out.

"Maybe we finally made one," you mumble adorably, a hopeful look in your eyes.

Your husband merely smiles. Finally conceiving a child with you... the thought makes him feel content.

Maybe it's time he lets go of his grudges. Maybe it's time he feels secure in the fact that you married him. Maybe it's time he forgets about the palace gardener you fancied before him.

Maybe it's time he forgets about Jeon Jungkook.

After all, although you were in love with Jungkook first, you never ended up telling him. And although Jungkook was in love with you as well, he also never ended up telling you.

Because Taehyung made sure of it.

And although, in the end, you ended up marrying Taehyung, he'll never let you find out the truth.

And the truth is that Jungkook never went back to his home village to take care of his sick mother. The truth is that Jungkook never died from catching his mother's sickness himself. The truth is that Jungkook never even made it home, to begin with.

All you truthfully know is that Jungkook is dead.

But you'll never know that it was all by Taehyung's royal, bloody hands.

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 4 months

Text

Bitter brew of change || Billy the Kid x Murphy!reader

Summary: Victoria Murphy, the niece of rancher Lawrence Murphy, invites Billy over for tea. As their encounter unfolds, Billy's defiance challenges Victoria's arrogance, sparking an unexpected internal struggle within her.

Warnings: sorry reader has a name but feel free to ignore it, reader is a bitch soz, reader smokes (not romanticising) if there's anything else lmk!

Wc: 1,223

Billy the Kid Masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

You lived in the small town of Lincoln, the niece of the influential and feared rancher Lawrence Murphy. You were known for your beauty and high status, but your demeanor left much to be desired. You lived in a lavish hacienda on the outskirts of town, your days filled with the privilege that came from your family name.

"Is it true that Billy the Kid will be working for you, uncle?" You lean forward in you seat, setting the delicate tea cup down before resting your arms on the armchair.

Major Murphy arches an eyebrow in your direction, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. "It seems you're quite curious about my affairs, dear Tori," he murmurs, a cigar nestled between his lips as he expertly lights it. As you observe, his face transforms into a canvas of pure bliss upon exhaling.

When whispers echoed through the town that Billy the Kid, the infamous outlaw, was making his way to Lincoln to join forces with your uncle, intrigue coursed through your veins. For months, tales of the daring and handsome young gunslinger had reached your ears, and what you desired most was not just to hear stories, but to talk to him face-to-face.

You casually shrug, effortlessly retrieving a cigar from your purse and igniting it with a swift movement. "I want to meet him," you declare in a matter-of-fact tone, exhaling slowly as Major Murphy chuckles in response.

"Now, just imagine what your daddy would have to say about this, Victoria. His darling daughter talking with an outlaw wanted for murder, hmm?" Murphy chuckles at his own jest, and you can't help but respond with a dismissive roll of your eyes.

"He doesn't need to know," you suggest with a mischievous glint in your eyes, casting a look at your uncle who appears to mull it over. "Please, uncle?" You flash him your most innocent puppy-dog expression, all while delicately cradling a cigar between your artfully painted fingers.

"Alright. Him and his gang are scheduled for dinner tonight, and I can arrange for you to sit across from him," Murphy concedes, succumbing to the charms you wield so effectively for your own advantage. "But let's be clear, Tori. No funny business. My brother would have my head if he discovered he laid a single finger on you under my watch," he warns, pointing a finger at you with a serious demeanor.

You rise with giddy anticipation, snatching your purse as you prepare to depart. "I promise. Thanks, Uncle," you express your gratitude before gracefully exiting his office. A mischievous smile graces your lips, and with deliberate flair, you indulge in a few draws from the toxic cigar held delicately between your fingers.

"Good mood, Miss Victoria?" James Dolan tips his hat at you upon entering the house. "Mhm, very good mod sir," You offer a pat on his shoulder, graciously handing him your cigar as you stroll past him.

"Maria, prepare my dress, won't you? I must be at my absolute best when I meet him," you exclaim with eager anticipation, tossing your head back to savor the warmth of whiskey trickling down your throat. "Certainly, miss," the young woman acknowledges with a nod, swiftly making her way to ensure your dress is impeccably arranged.

You gaze at your reflection in the mirror, a satisfied smile gracing your lips as you delicately adjust the pearls adorning your neck. You turn your head when you hear Maria walking in, her hands holding a red, squared neck dress. "Not that one," you scold, your tone commanding attention, "fetch the other red dress, the off-shoulder one!" A slight groan escapes your lips as Maria swiftly retreats to rectify her mistake.

"Perfect," escapes you in a contented sigh, your eyes tracing the flawless contours of your red dress. It hugs every curve, accentuating your delicate collarbones and enhancing your chest. "Don't I just look perfect?" With a confident turn, you catch the discreet glances exchanged between Maria and the other servants in the room.

"I asked a question and expect an answer-" "You look perfect, miss," "Very beautiful, miss," "You look gorgeous, miss," You revel in satisfaction at their replies, a smile playing on your lips as you turn back around, hands gliding smoothly down the contours of your dress.

"Billy has never seen a more perfect, gorgeous lady until tonight, aren't I right, Maria?" You drawled as the women furiously nods, opening her mouth to speak, "Billy will be speechless, miss."

"Exactly right. Billy will be speechless," You muse with a self-satisfied smile. "Ready my carriage, I'll be leaving soon," you announce, the silk gloves slipping effortlessly over your hands.

Amidst a gathering of distinguished women, you found yourself scanning the room, anticipating the sight of him. And there he was. A radiant gleam filled your eyes as you absorbed his commanding presence—his penetrating gaze and an aura that effortlessly commanded attention—while he entered with his gang of cowboys trailing behind.

The crowd falls silent for a moment, collectively recognizing the arrival of the infamous gunslinger. Swiftly, you navigate through the body of people, skillfully making your way to your uncle, who was comfortably seated on the couch, surrounded by his associates.

"Sorry to interrupt, gentleman. I need to speak to my uncle," you graciously interject, offering a charming smile as Murphy stands up. "Yes, Tori?" You grip his arm, your eyes on Billy across the room as he drinks alongside his gang, his eyes wandering around the room.

"There he is." You tilt your head in Billy's direction. "Mind introducing me to him?" Your eyes eagerly meet your uncle's, who sighs but nevertheless complies, setting his glass of whisky down on the table.

"Billy!" Your uncle calls out as you follow behind him. "Meet my lovely niece. She lives just outside town," Major Murphy presents you with a smile. Your eyes sparkle with admiration as you take in his appearance up close.

You extend a gloved hand, "Victoria Murphy," You introduce yourself with a touch of formality, though you heart was racing beneath the façade. Billy, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, takes your hand with a respectful nod.

"Billy, ma'am," he replies, his voice low and drawling. His eyes lingered on yours as well as his hold on your hand for a moment longer than was proper. A flush of red creeps up on your cheek as you clear your throat, retracting your hand.

Adorned in a striking strapless dress, you patiently waited for the arrival of Billy. You had invited him to you house for morning tea last night. As Billy entered the Murphy hacienda, he couldn't help but notice your calculated charm.

You greeted him with a smirk, and it was evident that you enjoyed the effect you had on him. The mansion was adorned with opulence, a stark contrast to the humble dwellings of the townsfolk.

"Elena, go bring us tea," You sternly spoke to the newly employed maid who scrambles off. Billy watches the interaction with a slight furrow of his eyebrows before he sets his eyes back on you with a charming smile.

During the evening, your treatment of your Spanish maids became apparent. Your demands were met with silent obedience, and the atmosphere in the hacienda was one of subservience. Despite the discomfort in the air, Billy remained composed, observing the dynamic at play.

"Mr. Bonney, won't you have a seat?" You gestured towards an ornate chair. Billy nodded graciously, "Billy's fine," he smiles briefly, his eyes lingering on the elegant surroundings. As he settled into the chair, you took a seat across from him.

"So, Billy, how do you like it here in Lincoln," You gaze at him as you readjust your dress. Billy's eyes couldn't help but let his eyes wander down to your chest as you tug it up. Clearing his throat, he opens his mouth, "It's lovely here," he nods, eyes wandering around the room.

You slowly nodding, Billy was a man of few words. "Light my cigarette, will ya?" You reach for a cigar before nestling it in between you painted lips and leaning over for him to light the other end. Your eyes move to the doors that opened revealing Elena. "Tea?" You inquired, flicking the ash into the ash tray, as Elena comes closer to the two of you. As she comes closer, you notice her shaking.

The delicate porcelain cup trembled in her hands and you couldn't help the scowl that made it to your face. She nervously looks at you and then Billy—who notices her nervousness, offers her a friendly smile.

Her hands shakily attempt to put the teacup and teapot set down on the table, the shaking of the porcelain being the only source of noise. "Oh for goodness sake, Elena, just put it down-"

Billy, watching you was caught off guard when a cascade of hot liquid spilled onto his lap. Your face contorted with anger as you stood up, Elena lets out a gasp, furiously apologising.

"I am so sorry. I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to-" Elena stammered as her hands frantically try to wipe the hot liquid off Billy's jeans as your breathing became heavier with embarrassment.

Billy catches Elena's hands in his, "Hey- it's okay, 'm fine." Billy shrugs and offers her a smile. "Elena. You may go," You walk over to her, your hand grasping her forearm as she stumble.

"You've embarrassed me enough today," you harshly say to her, closing the door on her face, though your harsh words reached Billy's listening ear.

Billy, feeling the sting of the scalding tea, looked at you with a cool gaze. "There's no need to treat her like that," he said calmly. Unaccustomed to defiance, you scoffed.

"And why not? They're my maids, I pay them, so I can treat them however I want," You cross your arms in front of your arms, head tilted to the side slightly.

Billy's response was measured yet firm. "'Cause it's not right. We're all human, deserving of respect. You felt a mixture of annoyance and intrigue. Here was a man who didn't bow to her every whim. She'd be lying if she said her attraction to Billy, wasn't fueled by the unexpected clash of wills.

You took a long drag, maintaining eye contact with Billy, attempting to decipher him. "You're quite different, Billy," You comment, as he tilts his head at your words. "Am I? Why? Because I think it's wrong that you treating your maids poorly?" You see a glint of rage in his icy blue eyes.

“Because you openly tell me this. A proper man would keep it to himself and let a woman like myself do as she pleases. After all, a household thrives on order, and as the woman of this house, I run it how I please." Your voice carried an authoritative resonance, unwavering even under Billy's icy gaze.

"I'm an outlaw, baby," he drawled as you narrow your eyes at him, "outlaws aren't considered proper men," he leans forward in his seat, his blue eyes boring into yours before he downs the already cold tea.

In the quiet moments that followed, Billy's presence became a subtle challenge to your accustomed lifestyle. He spoke of a different way of life, one where strength and honor were not measured by the wealth one possessed. Yo were torn between your attraction to Billy and the expectations placed upon you, you found yourself grappling with conflicting emotions.

"Your beauty is undeniable, Victoria," his sudden words of compliment cause you to look up at him. "But your arrogance and mistreatment of others make you ugly," he remarked, his eyes piercing at you.

You, unused to facing such truths, felt a mixture of anger and vulnerability. You wanted to dismiss his words, to maintain a façade of invincibility, but a part of you longed for something more genuine.

At high noon, Billy prepared to leave the Murphy hacienda. You stood on the steps of your threshold, looking at Billy with a mixture of defiance and longing. Billy, sensing the internal struggle within you, offered a parting piece of advice.

"You're a good girl, Victoria. Don't let your stubbornness and pride get into the way of being a decent human being," with those words lingering in the air, Billy rode off, leaving a conflicted woman on the steps of the Murphy hacienda. The echoes of their encounter resonated through the town, a subtle reminder that even the toughest hearts could be swayed by the winds of change.

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nanamimizz · 11 months

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tags:this is a very self indulgent piece my b, 18+ minors dni, fem reader!

Jing Yuan, for better or for worse enjoys you - from your sentimental heart to your delicate nature, never will there be a thing that he does not fawn over. Even now he enjoys how you turn the other way when exposed, hiding your flushed face and nervous eyes from his lidded gaze. You both are in the nude, laid in the comfort of your bed and he wouldn’t lie that there is something wicked charming in the fact of taking you before the eyes of your plush companions. Jing Yuan could never claim to be a good man - so he delights in his wicked ways as he eyes the tightness of your nipples and the slope of your hips.

How sweet, how delicate you are beneath him - like a flower freshly bloomed it feels like you could perfectly fit in the palm of his hand.

The sweetest thing of all is the look of half terror half desire in your eyes as you gaze at the width of his cock. It’s large, Jing Yuan is well acquainted with his size and he laughs at the pitiful whimper you let out at the sight of it. Your legs had pressed shut before its visage and he pushed them aside with little effort. He is a man of the blade, your pitiful strength is only something to be laughed at when compared to his.

A golden eye leers down at you - the curls of hair from your pelvis are sticky from the two releases he ripped from you and the fingers that hold your left thigh are still tacky from being inside of you. You are soft and sticky, inner thighs webbed with your release; more than ready to take him but you tremble beneath the breadth of him. His cock rests against the seam of your cunt, the head is more than flush with the pearl of your clit throbbing in its hood.

You gasp and he teases.

“Are you so frightened? Surely I’ve prepared you enough.” He purrs all too much like the lion that lounges in his main room and you wither beneath him - the flower in his palm wilts as you whine.

“It’s just - so, big. What if it hurts?” You mumble out even when he kisses you in between your stumbling words and you taste the tea he drank on his tongue. He laughs at you, condescending in its timbre and you only whimper at the sound. The head of his cock is now pressed to the centers of the petals of your cunt, he can feel your slick trickle down to the salty head and he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth.

Affection paired with snickering teases, your poison of choice.

“It will,” His head presses in and you gasp - ankles coming to cross over the small of his back as he presses deeper and deeper inside of you. “Even if I have to break you for it, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

His words are as true as they are a jest and you squeal as name as you take more of his cock. The truth is wrapped in the glittering wrapping of a tease but you know the gravity of his words hangs as heavy as the cock inside of you. You look up into gold eyes with tears in your own, your stomach gives and you wonder - is this how his foes felt when they look up at him? Knowing they will receive no mercy, and neither would you.

#lamb.writes #jing yuan smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #fem reader!

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dumbkiri · 6 months

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 『3』

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ꜱᴛᴀʏ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ ꜱ2

The night of the Shibuya Incident has pushed [Name] to do the extreme; consuming Nami's soul to inherit the full power of blessed energy. Everyone will feel her presence even the King of Curses, Sukuna.

Leave a request in my inbox, comment down below for more! Also if you see misspelled names like Kenjaku...take it up with Google.

“Good morning, pretty girl.”

The sun’s bright light was the thing to actually wake her up besides the voice of her loved one. His voice was so soothing and his smile could rival the stars twinkling at night.

“Come on, open your eyes and let’s get our day started.”

His warm touch sent shivers down her arms as he caressed her shoulder blades. He fixed the loose strap of her shirt hanging off her shoulder back into place. Then she felt her small bed dip knowing that he was sitting next to her slumped body.

“One of your rose bushes-”

“What’s wrong with them?” [Name] jumped out of her bed wearing a tank top and pajama shorts. She didn’t even bother to brush her messy hair, instead she bolted to her closest and put some sandals on in a hurry.

“One of your rose bushes is blooming faster than the others.”

The male teen on her bed finished with a jesting smile on his handsome face. With this information, [Name] pouted and said to her friend, “Suguru, that was really messed up. You made me worried there.”

“So worried that you jumped up to examine your rose bushes rather than getting ready for the mission we are sent on?” Suguru asked and pushed himself off her bed. He walked over to her and brushed her hair down to make it look somewhat presentable.

Then someone else barged into her dorm with a loud greeting, “Good morning, earth worm! It’s time to go on a mission with your best friends!”

[Name] yawned and stretched her arms out, “Ah~ Good morning, Toru!” Then she focused back on the black haired male, “I’ll meet you guys out there, I need to prepare some tea for us and we’ll be on our way.”

She made her way to her closet and picked out her uniform while Suguru pushed Satoru out of her bedroom. Her door closes with a soft click and their footsteps fading away. [Name] looked at the closed door and sighed, “Geez, there’s different ways to wake me up. Next time they barge in, gimme some flower seeds or something.”

……

“It’s been awhile, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl…[Name]’s eyes blurred with sad tears and her hands trembled by her sides. Suguru Geto was standing right in front of her as well as a captured Satoru Gojo.

“Not going to greet me back? Did you forget who I am?”

She looked at Satoru and he stared back at her in clear surprise. He didn’t think she could actually cross the veils that blocked other sorcerers out. Sure, she had blessed energy, but only he was allowed in. Her blessed energy really defied all odds against her. This is what she meant back then when she spoke about her unique technique.

[Name] swallowed the lump in her throat and she wiped her tears away with a shaky breath. She had to pull this off, her domain expansion could save these people still. With Nami’s soul combining with hers, she had every ability inherited. Including the Domain Expansion: Heavenly Garden which can only be casted by Nami.

It completely erases cursed energy from anyone captured in it. It heals all afflictions and wounds; internal, physical and mental. It makes every negative emotion disperse and is replaced by kindness for everyone.

That being said, if the cursed spirits get captured in it, they immediately perish.

“Su..Suguru…” [Name] stopped crying and her act of benevolence made Satoru worry for her,“I can never forget you.” She removed her hands away from her eyes and she stamped a smile on her face, a chuckle of relief heard from her.

“You should know that I consumed Nami’s soul to save my husband and the people in Shibuya. I am granting you this fair warning, Suguru. If you are caught in my domain expansion, you along with-”

“Boo!” The cursed spirit known as patchface appeared from behind [Name] and he jumped right at her without taking her warning from earlier seriously. She stated that she consumed Nami’s soul meaning she has complete control over the blessed energy Nami was providing her with.

But she didn’t want to dispose of this curse yet. She wanted to speak to it first and then kill him for good. With incredible speed and strength that matched Sukuna’s, [Name] spun around and smacked Mahito’s hand away from her face.

“Get away from her, Mahito!” Suguru shouted, he didn’t want to lose Mahito. His technique was valuable!

[Name] smacked her right palm into Mahito’s face then slammed his whole body onto the floor with a neutral look on her face. “So you do have a name,” [Name] hummed and began squeezing his face in her grasp, “but why should I care? The people you killed had names, families, lives to live at their own will. You killed them all for the sake of fun, didn’t you?”

Mahito was struggling to get out of her hold. His legs kicked haphazardly underneath her body and he squirmed like a worm. “I don’t like seeing people around me suffer, not even a curse like you. But you caused suffering for my favorite student. You laughed in his face in his tormented moment.”

Jogo took a step forward to the woman and Mahito, ready to help the childish cursed spirit. Yet Kenjaku stuck his hand out and instructed the hothead to stay in place. He spoke with his face scrunching up in anger, “We don’t stand a chance against her. Mahito is finished and we need to leave.”

[Name] heard the rising anger in that spirit that took over her loved one’s body and she crushed Mahito’s head with ease. Mahito was successfully terminated, never coming back into this world. “I was going to have fun tormenting him, Suguru~” [Name] softly sang and pushed herself off of Mahito’s disintegrating body.

Jogo watched in fear as he saw no blood around her hand or the existence that Mahito was there. Instead Mahito was gone without a trace. “Oh?” [Name] wiped the dust off her beige slack and rolled the sleeves of her [f.color] cardigan up to her elbows, “Don’t tell me you don’t know how blessed energy works.”

“W-what did you do to him?” Jogo stuttered out and took one step back.

[Name] kept her straight face and sighed, “I got rid of him for good. When a curse is exorcized by me, they don’t come back at all. Your friend, Mahito has been on my list for a long time and he really thought he could fight me. A foolish mistake, don’t you think, Suguru?”

Kenjaku’s eyes narrowed a bit and he looked over at Gojo to see the blue eyed male have a smirk on his face. This whole situation was getting out of hand.

“Gate: Close.”

“Satoru!” [Name] shouted in surprise of her husband getting sealed. A bouquet of flowers appeared in her right hand and she threw it at the white haired male. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She cursed herself for prolonging the conversations, her first priority should have been Satoru.

Another person woke up from the trance of Infinite Void and [Name] had no choice, but to flee. She could exorcise them all in Heavenly Garden, although her body was getting extremely exhausted. From consuming Nami, to getting here and passing through the veils that wanted her out, to killing Mahito. She didn’t let herself rest after binding her soul to a goddess.

“Blessed: Sun’s Warmth,” [Name] casted out her technique and each non-sorcerer was enveloped in a golden bubble of protection. “I’m coming back for him, fake.” [Name] declared and with that all the bubbles that had the entranced people in them popped. The humans were gone as well as the reborn goddess, Nami.

“I’m going to find Sukuna’s vessel and give him the rest of the fingers,” Jogo looked up at Kenjaku and before the black haired male could respond, the prison realm slammed itself on the train platform.

“It seems the prison realm is still trying to figure out what Gojo Satoru is. We’re lucky [Name] didn’t stay long enough to see this.”

“Don’t you mean, Nami?” Jogoi questioned and watched Choso leave the floor. He knew he was also after Sukuna’s vessel, but only to kill him.

Kenjaku shook his head and plopped himself on the floor next to the box, “No, I mean, [Name]. She ate the flower that held Nami’s soul and usually the stronger one, which would be Nami, would be in control of the body. Yet [Name] continues to surpass her limits and consume Nami’s soul, taking all of the blessed power for herself. She’s now the Goddess of the Flowers.”

“Well this is just great! We need to get Sukuna to do something about her! She’s going to-”

Kenjaku chuckled and stared at the box, “What makes you think Sukuna wants to get rid of Nami?”

“Huh, but you said that Nami wasn’t-”

“I did say that Nami was gone, but Sukuna will be fooled by her god-like presence inside of [Name]. And being the pretty girl she is, [Name] is going to fool Sukuna like she fooled me. She knew I wasn’t Suguru Geto the entire time. Those tears were just for show to catch us off guard.”

Jogo became his usual grouchy self and slouched some more, “Why do you keep calling that woman, pretty girl?”

Kenjaku shrugged his shoulders with that same smile on his face, “Force of habit!”

…..

Meanwhile Satoru was in the realm sitting on top of bones with a smile on his face. He plucked a petal of the rose and dropped it on his tongue. This bouquet [Name] threw at him was grown by blessed energy and he was eating it like it was normal.

“Satoru, you have to try this for me, please!”

[Name] ran into the house with a giant grin on her face. A rose was in her hand free of thorns and it looked super pretty. He could have sworn it sparkled under the kitchen light.

“[Name], it’s two in the morning. Are you seriously gardening right now?” He chuckled and took the rose from her excited hands.

“I waited for you to come home and your mission took longer than it normally does. Anyways, my project is finished! I can now give people a bit of blessed energy! Girls, come in!” [Name] walked down the hallway and pushed her small servant girls into the kitchen.

“Don’t tell me you force fed them petals,” Satoru laughed again and set the rose onto the kitchen counter.

With a roll of her eyes, [Name] presented the six year olds and instructed Satoru to take his blindfold off. “Okay I did anyways, can you tell the difference between the girls?” She asked in anticipation and Satoru hummed as his six eyes took in the energy around the trio.

“Wow,” He whispered and he crouched down to be their height, “Why does the middle one have more of a range and it’s thicker than the other two?” The blessed energy around the middle one was amazing to see especially since she isn’t a part of the [L.Name] Clan.

“Because she ate three flowers! And this was from yesterday’s lunch!” [Name] jumped in the air with joy. After years of trying to experiment on blessed energy and trying to protect her peers, she finally succeeded. Satoru was super proud of her for reaching this point.

“Don’t you know what that means? It means people can use blessed energy and use techniques! They can do Sun’s Warmth, Fallen Petals, Wisteria’s Sway-”

Satoru stood up and smiled, putting his blindfold back on, “Okay, okay, I hear you. We should let the girls sleep though then we can discuss tomorrow's day. We’re both free of missions and I really want to spend time with you.”

The servant girls left with a few giggles seeing the lady of the house blush furiously. “Satoru, you can’t talk like that in front of the girls!” She whined embarrassed and walked into his open arms. “They already tease me saying I have a crush on you.”

“Well you had a crush on me for a while now, don’t you think?”

“Anyways~” [Name] sang and breathed in his cologne, her face snuggling closer to his chest, “Imagine what you can do with blessed energy. Nothing would touch you, you’d be unstoppable.”

“I already am,” Satoru confidently said and kissed the top of her head. “Also if you’re going to feed me flower petals, I want honey with mine.”

“You got it, Toru!”

Satoru smiled fondly at the memory and took the plastic bear full of honey out of his pocket. “No matter what she does, she’s always catching my attention. Ah~ I miss her already” Satrou looked at the roses and sighed, “Stay beautiful, my earthworm, I’ll be out soon enough.”

#x reader #anime imagine #manga imagine #x female reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk gojo

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lamemaster · 7 months

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Ways to Coax Your Beloved

Pairing: Glorfindel x Reader

Genre: Romance, fluff (i swear) , sprinkle of angst

Summary: What began as a minor disagreement now feels like an insurmountable chasm between you two. Never before had an argument lasted so long.

AN: written directly on Tumblr interface this is my mania. Enjoy!

"I've brought us some snacks," you carefully balance the tray on the balcony railing. "Cakes, tea, cookies, crackers, cream rolls – I've got everything." He remains facing away from you, his back tense and unyielding to your words.

"Glorfindel," you take a hesitant step closer, your hand hovering in the air. But before you can say more, he disappears once again. This has been the pattern for a week, the longest and most trying week of your life.

What began as a minor disagreement now feels like an insurmountable chasm between you two. Never before had an argument lasted so long. Your beloved simply did not care to hold on to grudges for long.

Sighing, you lifted the tray, contemplating an excuse that wouldn't draw the pitying gazes of the kitchen staff.

"How do you coax a sulking elf?" Erestor looks up from his book. You had never really conversed much with him before this. There was never a reason to. "Specifically a thousands of years old being whose been born twice and is quite a legend."

Much to your surprise, Erestor does not find your humor hilarious. Leave for slight amusement in his eyes there is little appreciation for your jest.

"I would rather you not discuss this with me," the stern looking elf replies as he simply turns back to his tomes. Yikes! Awkwardly swinging your arms you try to plan for a slightly less awkward exit. "Ah yes," picking up the closest book you plan for your emergency exit from the unforgiving company, "I would like to get this book."

With another scathing look directed your way, Erestor meticulously wrapped your borrowed book in a fancy-looking cloth. "Keep it away from any water, heat, or dirt. Any damage is unacceptable," he instructed curtly.

You solemnly nodded, understanding the gravity of his instructions. "Sounds good," you responded with a casual tone, but Erestor's raised eyebrow reminded you that casualness wasn't his forte.

As you turned to leave, you almost collided with the bookshelf, which seemed to have crept up on you. "Oof," you muttered, swaying your way out of the room.

Then, Erestor's voice halted your steps. "Try Asfaloth," he suggested.

With a wide grin, you turned around and threw a jolly salute to Erestor, who had already returned to his books as if nothing had changed.

Armed with Erestor's invaluable intel, you ventured to the stables. Before arriving there, you made sure to thoroughly search your quarters, Glorfindel's rooms, and other frequently visited areas of the dwelling. Finally, you descended to the stables, where your beloved's horse awaited.

"Asfaloth, my boy, how I've missed you!" Your heartfelt enthusiasm was met with an equally excited neigh from the elegant white stallion. Despite towering over you, Asfaloth possessed a temperament that invited nurturing from anyone.

Performing a playful dance with light stomps to celebrate your arrival was entirely unnecessary but undeniably enjoyable. Or perhaps it was the not-so-well-concealed carrots you held in your hands that fueled your jubilant display. "Have you seen him?" you posed a question to the horse, though you knew full well that, despite elven claims, horses did not possess the gift of speech.

Approaching the gentle giant that was Asfaloth, you deftly ensured that he didn't gobble the carrots too quickly. "Patience," you murmured, adjusting the treats to prevent any mishaps. Abandoning the idea of petting the eager horse, you directed all your focus toward preventing a choking incident. You were acutely aware that Glorfindel would never forgive you if Asfaloth were to asphyxiate on your offerings.

"Where is he, Asfaloth?" Your fingers continued to caress the munching horse as you briefly entertained the idea that, just maybe, the elves were right, and Asfaloth understood you.

No fancy braiding or delicate floral decorations adorned his mane this time. "Why is he avoiding you? What have you done?" you pondered aloud, earning a pitiful whine from your equine companion. "I know, incredibly rude, I must say," you commented, deciding against attempting to braid Asfaloth's mane for the sake of both the world's sanity and your own. Instead, you settled on a comfortable pile of hay, hoping you weren't sitting on Asfaloth's dinner from the previous night.

"I brought him flowers, snacks, I even endured the drudgery of laundry, and I despise laundry. I got him books, a random flute, baked him a cake, and even learned a new card trick. But not a single reaction!" You confided in Asfaloth, desperately hoping for some form of understanding and equally enthusiastic compassion. To your relief, Asfaloth seemed to offer a sympathetic snort at just the right moment.

"You wouldn't believe it, but I even dared to venture into Erestor's little cave for intel. I'm at my wit's end, my friend," you sighed, realizing that the hay pile was indeed quite comfortable.

"I mean, I could try going to the nearest town for something, but I doubt I'd find anything better than these snobbish elves. Besides, those townsfolk charge outrageous prices," you continued, and Asfaloth leaned in, sniffing your satchel in hopes of more treats. Allowing the horse to continue his investigation, you didn't stop him. "I might dip into some of those savings. Perhaps Glorfindel would appreciate some rustic tools, eh?" Tired of Asfaloth's curiosity, you playfully tossed your empty satchel into the corner, which, for some inexplicable reason, Asfaloth chased like an adorable hound.

Tucked away in Asfaloth's cozy abode, you couldn't recall when your consciousness had faded into that blissful six-hour nap – the kind you cherished above all others. In the realm of bizarre dreams, you found yourself pinned to a pile of hay, unable to relinquish the unconventional comfort. Maybe Erestor had been onto something when he recommended Asfaloth.

However, your tranquil slumber was abruptly shattered as a metaphorical tsunami wreaked havoc on your sleeping form. Gasping, you struggled to make sense of the blurry world that seemed to whirl too rapidly for your groggy vision to follow.

"Y/n, oh Eru, you're awake!" A voice echoed through your sleep-addled and hazy thoughts.

Grasping the strong arms that held you close, you attempted to piece together the disaster that had overtaken you. "Wha-" your words faltered as you laid eyes on the tearful and sniffling elf standing before you. It was your first time witnessing such an emotional display, and you couldn't quite believe that elves were capable of producing snot.

Shaking off your mental fog, you slowly realized the peculiar predicament you were in. You were seated on a pile of hay, within the stable, beneath Asfaloth's unflinching gaze, and enfolded tightly in the embrace of the Balrog-slayer himself.

"I-I thought you left. You left like you said," Glorfindel stammered, your hands gently cupped your hiccupping beloved's face as his words tumbled out faster than you could process. "I couldn't find you… I had to… I rushed here, and then, you were… your eyes closed like that." Using your sleeves, you wiped away the relentless tears (and yes, even the snot) that streamed down his face as you sought a way to soothe Glorfindel's overwhelming emotions.

You couldn't help but internally curse yourself for your rambling that had led to this emotional upheaval. Days ago, beneath the relentless blanket of snow and impenetrable clouds, your thoughts had wandered without restraint.

"It happens, Glorfindel," you offered in an attempt to console him, "weariness of the world is unavoidable, even more so for Men. A slight change in weather can trigger it. After all, we are bound to some place beyond this." Your words seemed to offer little solace, evident from your beloved's reddening face.

"It is only natural to ponder death or the end. We Men are born with this burden, so it's not unnatural for such thoughts to sneak in. We call it 'existentialism.' But those ramblings mean nothing right now. I would not leave you, vanish into thin air, or transform into an insect just because the snow wouldn't relent." Your words carried a hint of playfulness, but there was undeniable truth in them. You would depart one day, for a fate separate from his. Before that day came, you both would endure the passage of time, a force that dared not mar the Balrog-slayer.

You harbored thoughts about evading him before he witnessed such a sight, but you knew you had some time left. A few years before you would spend eons waiting for another reunion.

But you chose not to speak of those deeper truths.

"But," you interjected, and Glorfindel perked up at the unexpected word. "I would tell everyone about this if you don't stop being an absolute grump." Just like that, the tension surrounding you both dissipated. "Imagine, 'Balrog Slayer, The Balrog Slayer,' in the stables – hmph!" Your words were cut off as Glorfindel playfully covered your face with his hand.

Even with reddened eyes and a rosy nose, your beloved looked every bit his old self. All traces of your angst and his sorrow dissipated into the slightly stinky breath of Asfaloth.

#the silmarillion #tolkien elves #silmarillion x reader #romance #fluff #glorfindel x reader #glorfindel imagine #glorfindel #human reader #asfaloth #Asfaloth is a cutie

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