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linkemon · 29 days

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Confession headcanons

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here.

Part 1 | Part 3 of the confession headcanons.

This part contains: Sebek Zigvolt, Leona Kingscholar and Azul Ashengrotto.

Sebek Zigvolt

• Sebek would experience shock after shock before he even confessed his feelings. The first clash with reality would be the realization that he loves someone. What is it about you being on his mind all the time? That he would like to protect you from all the troubles surrounding you? That he feels boundless pride when you praise him for the smallest things? He can't sleep at night and gets up to do extra sets of push-ups to calm down. It would get to the point where he would get frustrated and ask Lilia for advice. Is this the ideal person to turn to in this situation? In his opinion for sure...

• How much fun Vanrouge would have at his expense! His, not so little anymore Sebek, experiences his first love affair. In addition, with a human being. What a chuckle of fate. Apparently, his student had learned something in life. Lilia would give Sebek some advice, not all of which would be entirely accurate. Well, he won't make everything easy for him! And it's funny to watch him hand you a rare Briar Valley frog and hope it wins your heart. It's a pity the knight didn't tell you that to get this frog he had to kill several magical creatures during the holidays, you would probably look at it differently...

• Sebek would have a hard time accepting the fact that he fell in love with a human. Of course, his opinion changed gradually as he got to know you, but realizing that he had done exactly what he sometimes criticized his mother for would be like a bucket of cold water. He even tried to find arguments against it but every time he saw your face in front of his eyes, he decided that he couldn't do it.

• He definitely ran for Malleus' "blessing" once he was sure he wanted to be with you. Of course, he solemnly promised that it would not interfere with his duties. The prince didn't mind. He was happy that he would have the opportunity to see his friend more often.

• Briar Valley still has some slightly old-fashioned traditions. Although Sebek is aware that couples date and break up, he is intentionally trying to marry you in the distant future, from the very beginning.

• His confession consisted of an oath. After all, he is a knight in flesh and blood. With a bouquet of wildflowers, he knelt down and announced that he was going to defend, protect and love you until his last breath. If you let him, he will try to be worthy of you, the lady of his heart. He came up with this idea while reading chivalric romances so the ride back to your dormitory on a white horse is basically a complete must-have...

Leona Kingscholar

• Leona would never be the first to admit the feeling growing in his heart. He has more important things on his mind than love. For example, a nap! And the fact that he ordered you to stay and sleep with him under threat was a completely different story.

• You decided to take matters into your own hands, because what is it supposed to be? You act like you're in a relationship. Your friends keep asking if you're a couple and you never know what to say, because they won't ask Kingscholar out of fear and it always falls on you. Grim sincerely hopes you are together. In his eyes, a rich prince means an endless supply of tuna. Even if he calls him a furball every chance he gets.

• One day, in a botanical garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers, you asked this one important question. Who wouldn't love me? That's what the sarcastic Leona said in response to your confession. Immediately afterwards, he squinted his eyes and happily went back to his fake nap.

• Outraged that he didn't even take you seriously, you tried to get up but failed. He hugged you tightly and pulled you to his chest. Only when you were so close to him did you realize how fast his heart was beating. You didn't know if all beasts were like that but the ghost of a smile on his lips confirmed your belief that they probably weren't. You didn't say anything for a moment, just listening to the fast rhythm. Just as you were about to say something, he opened his eyes and told you that you two could go out if you cared so much. Then he turned to his other side, saying that herbivores probably had nothing better to think about.

• Only on the verge of your sleep, wrapped in warmth, amid the scent of sweet flowers, did you hear a quiet voice in your ear "I love you", spoken in a deep and confident voice.

• You didn't want him to feel unpunished for such treatment, so for the next week you made it your goal to tell everyone you could that you were in a relationship. At first you thought it wouldn't bother him much, but when others started repeating it, he felt embarrassed, which he didn't hesitate to tell you when he really had had enough. At first it seemed to you that he wouldn't be much moved, but when others started repeating it, he felt embarrassed, which he didn't hesitate to tell you when he really had enough.

Azul Ashengrotto

• There is no way he would try to confess his love before he has tried every means available to him to see if you feel the same way. The idea of revealing himself to someone to such an extent terribly terrifies him. It doesn't matter that you saw him at his lowest point during the overblot, it doesn't change anything about it.

• He wouldn't send the twins to do anything related to this "project" as he called it in his head. He doesn't even talk about it because he knows they would be making fun of him for weeks to come, especially Floyd. The truth is that Jade realized it incredibly quickly, but he's waiting for the right opportunity to take advantage of it...

• Azul would have dozens of plans for every eventuality and somehow everything would still fall apart. The first and most important rule he adopted was to stay away from Mostro Lounge. He took you to his home sea under the pretext of sightseeing. If something went wrong, no one from the academy would see it and he would have time to collect himself. At this first point his perfect plan ended.

• First, something broke in your transportation to the museum he wanted to take you to. Then it turned out that the crab serving you didn't want to let you in, mumbling something about being late. Without losing his nerve, Azul proposed his plan B, which was a restaurant. Of course, previously checked by him. But what good is it, since the owner broke the tentacle and closed it that same morning, leaving only a note on the door that she was very sorry. On top of it all, his favorite alley in the underwater park was destroyed by a herd of wild seahorses. That sealed his defeat. He meant well but it didn't work out. Tired, he lowered his hat and rubbed his glasses, pretending that he had not spilled a tear of ink at all.

• You had to come to his aid because you couldn't watch him struggle with his thoughts. You placed a kiss on his cheek, telling him that you had fun because you spent a lot of time with him and that you were happy because he rarely gave up work for someone. This gave him confidence and with a sigh, he led you to a place he wasn't particularly fond of but one he knew would be quiet and peaceful. It was on one of the coral terraces that he hid in from kids who tormented him when he was little. When he confessed his feelings to you and you replied that you reciprocated them, he felt that at least now he would have happy memories of this place.

• Azul doesn't need to know that Jade exposed him some time ago and he sold you the information that his boss reciprocated your feelings for quite a favour...

#twisted wonderland x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #confessions #headcanons #black chariot #confession #twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #azul ashengrotto #leona kingscholar

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enveine · 4 months

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when doves cry - s. clegane: chapter one (pilot)

pairing: sandor clegane x f!eldest stark reader summary: your loyalty to your family is unwavering, a steadfast commitment that defines your character. however, navigating the turbulent waters of newfound, intense emotions for a man devoted to a family starkly opposed to your own will challenge the foundations of this loyalty. as you stand on the precipice of conflicting allegiances, the question looms: what sacrifices would you make in the name of love? rating: 18+ word count: 4.4k chapter warnings: smut, "we just met but I want to fuck you", kinda ooc sandor, language, story loosely follows the timeline of S1, semi-public sex- very risky, rough sex, reader probably cares more about what's happening then sandor does, hickeys in hidden places, unprotected piv sex, angst, "we just fucked and now we're practically going to be living together".

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The great hall of Winterfell buzzed with activity as the Stark family prepared for the arrival of King Robert Baratheon and his entourage. You were the eldest daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark, so you knew all eyes were going to be on you; a young woman of noble birth, at an age desperate to be married well. You moved gracefully through the throngs of people, your eyes keenly observing the bustling preparations. You wore a simple but elegant gown, the Stark colors proudly displayed.

A little nervous, to be expected. Nothing a little ride couldn’t fix.

On the way back, you noticed that winter truly had begun its descent upon the land, the air frigid and the wind mighty. The crunch of snow beneath the hooves of your horse echoed through the trees as you headed back towards Winterfell. You were eager to greet the royal party.

As you approached the stable, you hear the unmistakable clatter of hooves against the cobblestone. The royal retinue had arrived. Intrigued, you watch closely to see the beautiful ocean of golden banners, curiosity piqued by the impending arrival of the king.

The gate swung open, revealing the group of visitors. Your gaze was drawn to a towering figure at the back of the party. A man of imposing stature, his face hidden beneath a twisted helm, and clad in dark, rugged armor. He radiated an air of danger that made the other courtiers instinctively give him a wide berth.

Still mounted, you took a step back, closer to your direwolf Nyx. You watched him with a curious gaze. As he sat there, a silent sentinel also mounted upon his horse, you felt a shiver run down your spine as his gaze met your own.

"Who's that?" you inquired, directing the question to a nearby stable boy.

The boy hesitated before answering, "That's the Hound, my Lady. Sandor Clegane, the King's dog."

You clicked your tongue, “King’s dog, huh?” a small laugh, “Interesting title.”

You watched as the man dismounted, your eyes narrowing with interest. He moved with a certain controlled grace, his movements deliberate and purposeful. An unexpected shiver ran down your spine as you observed the mysterious figure. There was something about him that defied the norms of courtly behavior, an untamed quality that set him apart. In a sea of polished knights and well-mannered courtiers, he was a dark anomaly.

You couldn't help but be intrigued by the mysterious figure. Your eyes lingered on him, studying the scars that marred his face. There was a hardness in his gaze that suggested a life of brutality, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the man beneath the armor.

Your eyes met for the briefest moment, a flicker of connection that sent a jolt through your spine. Quickly averting her gaze, you tried ignoring the heart pounding feeling in her chest. The Hound continued on, seemingly indifferent to the glances and whispers that followed him. After his eyes left yours, you couldn’t help but watch his every move again. That man, Sandor Clegane, he was beautiful.

And he was coming right towards you.

As you dismounted her horse, the Hound's attention shifted briefly to her. You felt a twinge of discomfort under his scrutinizing gaze, but being the strong-minded Stark you were, held your ground. Nyx, ever vigilant, growled softly at the Hound, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.

"You a Stark girl?" he grumbled, his voice rough and devoid of warmth.

You nodded, a defiant yet humorous spark in your eyes. "Well I stand before you wearing Stark colors. I’d hope so. (Y/N) Stark. And you are?"

"The Hound. Sandor Clegane," he replied with a hint of mockery. "King's dog, they call me."

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "A dog, you say?” In a bold move, your eyes slowly moved up and down, taking in a good look of his entire figure. “I don’t see a collar.”

His lips twitched, almost forming a reluctant smirk. It was a rare sight, a crack in his stoic facade.

“Well, dog, I hope you’re house-trained.”

Your exchange was brief, but in that moment, something shifted. A connection, unspoken and unacknowledged, lingered between the two of you. The Hound turned away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving you with a lingering sense of curiosity and an unsettling awareness that even though you’d just met that man—you wanted more of him.

Later that night, the great hall of Winterfell resounded with the clinking of goblets and the boisterous laughter of the guests. You found yourself drawn into the festivities, attempting to put aside the enigmatic encounter with Sandor Clegane. The feast in honor of King Robert Baratheon's visit was in full swing, and the Stark family showed they knew how to put together an extravagant feast.

As the night progressed, you caught glimpses of him across the crowded hall. His presence was ominous, and whispers of him still followed like shadows. Your curiosity mingled with a sense of unease, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that your brief exchange held a significance you couldn't fully comprehend.

You continued to mingle among the noble guests, trying to keep your eyes away from Sandor. But to no avail, you watched in-between pointless conversations as he stood at the outskirts of the celebration. His gaze fixed on the revelry with a mix of disdain and disinterest and you felt a peculiar pull, as if the currents of destiny were nudging you toward the enigmatic man.

An unexpected voice interrupted you in the middle of your thoughts. "(Y/N), you seem quite taken with the Hound," spoke your younger sister, Sansa Stark, her blue eyes glinting mischievously.

You raised an eyebrow and snorted out a laughter, attempting to conceal the obvious interest written in your eyes. "Taken? No, my dear Sansa. Merely curious. He is a formidable figure, after all." You put your arm between hers, nudging her body in the direction of the man who looked quite bored. “You know what mother always tells us. We are wolves, we must be the ones to pounce before the others.”

Sansa's gaze flitted between you and the man in question, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Well, just be careful. Rumors say he has a fearsome temper."

You chuckled at her, feigning nonchalance. "Rumors are just that—rumors. I'm sure there's more to him than meets the eye."

“Rumor has it that I think you’re full of rubbish.” She replied, a playful laugh falling from her lips.

“Oh Sansa, run off. Father needs you.” You nodded in the direction of your father, clearly enjoying his conversation with King Robert and his son, Joffrey.

Poor Sansa, you thought, that boy looks like nothing but trouble.

As the night wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were destined to cross again. And fate intervened sooner than expected. The King's squire, Lancel Lannister, approached you with a cup of wine.

"From the Hound," he declared, offering you the goblet.

You hesitated, fingers brushing against the cold metal. You glanced in the direction of the Hound, who merely nodded in acknowledgment. Taking the wine, you nodded back with a small smile, and Lancel retreated into the shadows.

As you sipped the wine, the rich flavor lingered on her lips. As you found yourself drawn once more Sandor, you wondered what he’d taste like lingering on your lips. As your eyes met, a silent understanding passed between the two of you—a forming connection, born from the flames of need for passion.

Eventually, after a few more cups of wine, you found yourself standing at the edge of the hall, watching the dancers twirl to the music. A deep voice behind you interrupted your thoughts. "You fancy dancing, Lady (Y/N)?"

You turned to find Sandor standing there, his burned face impassive. "I can dance if the occasion calls for it," you replied, your eyes meeting his with something you couldn’t describe, but you could definitely feel it.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "She’s a wolf with claws, then."

You were undeterred by his nature, offering a playful smile. "You sure seem to enjoy lurking in the shadows, Ser Clegane. Is that where you find your solace?"

He grunted, a low sound that could be mistaken for a chuckle. "Solace is overrated. I prefer the edge of the firelight."

You tilted your head, curls cascading over your shoulder. "A mysterious man, I see. Are you afraid the light will reveal too much?"

Sandor's lips twitched into a half-smile, a rare sight on his scarred face. "Some things are better left in the dark."

Leaning in, you whispered, "But not everything. Some things are meant to be uncovered." You caught the glint in his eye, a flicker of something lustful beneath the rough exterior.

The conversation continued, the banter growing more flirtatious with each exchange. You teased and prodded, finding amusement in the unexpected connection you felt with the man. He, in turn, responded with a gruff charm that surprised even himself.

Eventually, he left you with short instructions, “Broken tower.”

At last, you found yourself in the quiet solitude with the idea of getting to know Sandor better. In a way you’d known nobody before. The anticipation of his presence weighed on you, and a flutter of nerves danced in your stomach. The air was charged with a different kind of energy, one that held the promise of a connection that transcended the boundaries of right and wrong.

A soft knock on the door signaled his arrival, and when you opened it, there he stood, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of intensity and vulnerability. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over his scarred face, softening the harsh lines that had witnessed battles and hardships.

"I thought we might continue our conversation," he rumbled, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught you off guard, especially when he roughly grabbed your cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. Your heart raced as you welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, trying your best to close the door.

The room pulsed with palpable tension, igniting like a fervent flame, as your hands yearned to make contact with him in every possible manner. The warmth emanating from your skin created a contrast against the cold, unyielding metal of his armor. Restless and eager, your hands became a silent testament to the unspoken urgency of your desire.

Sandor's gaze remained fixed on yours throughout, ablaze with a passion you had long yearned for—a fervor you couldn't fathom experiencing with the man standing before you.

Your teeth sank into his lower lip, coaxing a resonant, primal groan from him, prompting his reluctant withdrawal. "She's a wolf with claws and teeth," he chuckled, wiping away the trace amount of blood that had emerged from the newfound wound.

Rather than offering a response, your body found itself pressed against the wall, his calloused hand gently mitigating the impact on your head. "Couldn’t very well carry our conversation with your lips against mine," you remarked at last, tilting your head to the side as his lips met the tender skin of your neck.

He stopped for a moment- another faint chuckle coming before continuing, “aye, that was the point.”

Sandor persisted in tracing kisses along your neck, momentarily pausing only to leave subtle bites in places known only to him. In this moment, he recognized that he was on the brink of losing all restraint, evident in the autonomy of his hands, which seemed to explore every inch of your body with a desire you willingly indulged. Oh, how willingly you would allow him to continue.

“Sandor, please, I need-” you were cut off mid sentence by him grabbing your right leg and wrapping it around his waist. The cold metal hid his hardening cock—the feeling of it against your warm skin made you anticipate his every move. “If we’re g-gonna do this.. we need to hurry..”

“You need to keep quiet.”

His lips descended, caressing the delicate fabric of your dress. His fingers deftly maneuvered to release you from its confines with a sense of urgency; there was an animalistic quality to his actions—rough fingers, accompanied by soft growls, responding to the rhythmic dance of your body against his determined hold. A silent plea resonated, a tacit acknowledgment that you craved everything he was willing to bestow upon you.

A hushed stillness enveloped the space for the next few moments, broken only when he skillfully lowered your dress, unveiling your tits. Sandor's fingers delicately traced the contours of each nipple, his unwavering gaze captivated by their response. With each circular motion, they seemed to intensify in firmness, a testament to the heightened sensitivity your body exhibited in mere minutes of his touch. He reveled in the allure of your immediate responsiveness.

If anyone were to walk in they’d see such a pornographic sight: the beloved, eldest daughter of Ned Stark, nipples hard and swollen, dress hiked up to her waist while the Prince’s hound let her hump his armor. By this point, you'd wager that the burgeoning dampness in your silk panties had left its mark on the cool silver surface, a silent proclamation of your possession of the man. Yet, the mutual understanding between you both acknowledged that any unsuspecting onlooker venturing in would be treated to an undeniable spectacle.

If this were your first time, perhaps a hint of nervousness would have crept in, particularly as you sensed his hands gently sliding your panties down to your knees. Yet, even in such a moment, his adept handling imparted a profound sense of security. This man, bound by oath to safeguard his King, was now silently pledging to protect you with equal devotion.

But, fortunately, nothing could protect your body from what Sandor was about to do.

Seating himself on the ground after loosening his leather pants, he then drew you down to join him. As you settled onto his lap, he playfully grazed against your entrance with his cock, all the while continuing his descent of kisses along your neck. With a stern tone, he uttered, "My Lady, speak the word and I’ll stop."

Gazing into his eyes, you found them ablaze with desire, mirroring the fervor you sensed within yourself. His captivating eyes, the unsteady cadence of his breath, and the formidable frame enveloping you in its embrace—you desired nothing else in that moment.

“I don’t think such words exist.” You whispered.

At last, your lips met again with an intense passion, and as he slowly pushed his cock inside, his kiss carried a raw urgency that you eagerly reciprocated. Midway, a soft moan escaped as an indescribable sensation stirred in your stomach. Gazing down, your eyes caught a glimpse of your warmth enveloping him voraciously—a hunger akin to a famished wolf.

Sandor wasn’t even in completely.

His hips moved gradually against yours, a measured rhythm aiming to acquaint you with his full length. Pressed chest to chest, he sensed the rapid cadence of your intense heartbeat, but as his fingers traced small circles on your thighs, he felt it gradually subside. Sandor understood that in due course, he would sense the resurgence of your elevated heart rate, particularly when he ultimately filled you entirely. The connection was palpable, your pelvis intimately aligned with his.

He sustained a consistent rhythm, guiding your hips in a reciprocal dance of thrusts. The entire encounter was swift and purposeful, each thrust delivered with a sense of urgency, as if time were a constraint. In a sense, it was, considering the uncertainty of someone stumbling upon you at any moment.

Yet, beneath it all, an undercurrent of passion prevailed. The symphony of your gasps harmonized with his occasional groans, creating a melodic atmosphere. Your hand remained anchored on the back of Sandor's neck like a steadying handlebar, providing support as his thrusts intensified. It felt fitting that this was how Sandor Clegane fucked his women—clothed, he embodied roughness and intensity; how could one become tender and affectionate when undressed?

The familiar sensation of tightness formed in your stomach, and truth be told, there was a hint of disappointment in how swiftly the entire encounter unfolded. Yet, the lack of surprise lingered; he had proven to be the quickest in getting you into bed. The inexplicable allure he held over you remained a mystery, but in this moment, such thoughts were irrelevant—especially when you stood on the brink of blissful release.

Suddenly, a surge of sensation swept over you as his hand enveloped your throat. Sandor felt the subtle tightening of your walls around his cock, a telltale sign that you were teetering on the edge. He sought to bring you to that exquisite pleasure. Amidst the crescendo of your growing moans reverberating against the tower walls, his grip tightened, not to stifle your ecstasy but to cloak the sounds and shield the secrecy of your rendezvous.

As tears cascaded down your cheeks in response to the overwhelming pleasure, he spoke, "That's it, (Y/N), that's it…" It was as if he momentarily shed his usual demeanor, softening as he observed you in your vulnerable state. However, amidst the whirlwind that had your head spinning and everything fading to white, the only thing you could truly register was the profound impact of your orgasm.

Sandor wasn't far behind, withdrawing as you caught your breath, leaving your back adorned in ribbons of white cum. A soft whine escaped you as you felt it trickle down, accompanied by his heightened groans that surpassed those from when he was inside you. The aftermath left both of you in a hushed stillness, contemplating who would break the silence first. It was him, rising to his feet after moving your body off his lap and discreetly tucking his softening cock back into his trousers. He handed you a handkerchief, a gesture to cleanse the now drying traces from your back.

You wondered whether he would abandon you in the tower, retreat to his quarters, or perhaps rejoin the now dwindling party. To your surprise, he didn't. Instead, he extended his hand, helping you rise and assisting in the process of reclothing yourself. It was a considerate gesture, you acknowledged, yet it only added to the palpable tension that seemed to be mounting. You were certain Sandor could discern it in your expression—the subtle frown betraying your disappointment that the encounter had concluded. As you gazed at him, you searched for any sign of shared sentiment, any indication that he, too, would miss the intimacy you had just shared. Regrettably, you found nothing.

The air outside the tower was crisp, and the moon cast a silvery glow across the surroundings as Sandor led you down the winding path to your quarters. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, the tension between you two lingering even in the cool night air.

The journey was silent, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft echo of your footsteps on the cobblestone path. Sandor's hand, firm yet strangely comforting, guided you through the dimly lit passages of the castle.

As you approached your quarters, a mix of conflicting emotions washed over you. There was a longing for something more, a desire to bridge the gap between the intimacy you'd just shared and the reality of the castle walls around you. The silence between you spoke volumes, a tacit acknowledgment of the uncharted territory you both found yourselves in.

Upon reaching your door, Sandor released your hand, and for a moment, it felt like a sudden loss. He stood there, his expression unreadable in the muted moonlight. You searched his eyes for any sign of what lay beneath the surface, but they remained enigmatic.

"Goodnight, Lady (Y/N)," Sandor gruffly uttered, breaking the silence. The words hung in the air, a simple farewell laden with unspoken complexities.

"Goodnight, Sandor Clegane," you replied, your voice soft and tinged with a hint of something unsaid. As you entered your quarters, the door closing behind you, the weight of the night settled in.

Alone in the hushed sanctuary of your quarters, the echoes of the night's encounter reverberated through the room. The emotions, like an unruly storm, swirled within you, and the dam holding them back began to crack.

As you stood there, the weight of what had transpired bore down on you. The tears, uninvited, welled up in your eyes and spilled over, tracing the contours of your cheeks. It wasn't just the physical intimacy that left you shaken; it was the tangled web of emotions that accompanied it.

Regret gnawed at you, and confusion settled in like a heavy fog. What had led you to this precipice, and where did you stand now? The vulnerability of the moment washed over you, leaving you adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Fumbling with the fastenings of your dress, you sought solace in the act of undressing, as if shedding the layers would somehow alleviate the burden you carried. The moonlight filtering through the window cast shadows across the room, emphasizing the isolation you felt.

Laying on the bed, your tears soaked into the fabric beneath you, a silent lament for the choices made and the uncharted territories navigated. The intimacy, though a fleeting connection, left a profound impact, and the aftermath left you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

As the night wore on, the tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a quiet ache and a lingering question of what the dawn would bring. In the solace of your room, you found yourself wrestling with the complexities of desire, regret, and the uncertain path ahead.

The morning sun painted Winterfell in hues of gold, casting a warm light over the courtyard. Despite the tender touch of dawn, the echoes of the previous night's emotions still sat within your heart.

A soft knock on your door signaled the entrance of your father, whose countenance bore the strength of responsibility. "(Y/N)," he began with a softness, "gather your sisters. There's something we must discuss."

Compelled by both curiosity and a lingering sense of unrest, you summoned Arya and Sansa to join you in the family chambers. As the three of you assembled, a somber atmosphere enveloped the room, foreshadowing the gravity of your father's impending words.

Ned stood before you, a stalwart figure. "My daughters," he started, his voice bearing both love and gravitas, "a change is upon us. I have been offered the position of Hand of the King by King Robert."

Sansa's eyes widened, Arya's skepticism palpable, and you exchanged a glance with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty.

"We will be relocating to King's Landing," Ned continued, his gaze encompassing each of you. "It is an honor, but with it comes great responsibility. The court is a labyrinth of politics and intrigue, and I need my family by my side."

Arya's rebellious spirit simmered beneath the surface, while Sansa's excitement mingled with trepidation. As for you, the events of the night before lingered, making the move to King's Landing feel like an unexpected twist in the intricate tapestry of your life.

Amidst the familial exchanges, there was another silent dance occurring—one between you and Sandor. His eyes constantly drew your gaze. It was as if an invisible thread connected you, and in those moments, the world around you blurred as your eyes met his, wordlessly conveying a shared understanding of the complexities unfolding.

Ned Stark, seemingly oblivious to the subtle interplay, continued to outline the responsibilities that awaited the Stark family in the capital. As he spoke, your eyes frequently found Sandor's, and each exchange carried a weight of unspoken emotions. His gaze, normally guarded, held a hint of something that transcended the stoic exterior he presented to the world.

When Ned mentioned the unity of the Stark family in facing the challenges ahead, your eyes involuntarily sought out Sandor's once more. In that shared gaze, there was a recognition that echoed the uncertainties of the path ahead and the uncharted territories that lay before you.

The air seemed heavy with the weight of impending change as you sought out Sandor in the quiet corners of the castle. You found him in a secluded courtyard, the familiar hounds of House Stark milling about nearby. The atmosphere was tense, and the silent exchange of glances from before lingered in your mind.

"Sandor," you began, your voice cutting through the stillness. He turned to face you, his expression guarded but expectant.

The words tumbled out, the night before demanding acknowledgement. "What happened between us… it was unexpected, and now with the move to King's Landing, I don't know what this means."

Sandor's gaze, normally impenetrable, softened in a rare display of vulnerability. "It means nothing, my Lady. Just a moment in time, and we move on."

But you couldn't shake the lingering questions. "Is that all it was to you? Just a moment?"

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours with a raw honesty. "It was more than that, but it's not something that fits into our worlds."

A surge of frustration mixed with a tinge of sadness swept over you. "Our worlds? What does that mean, Sandor? We're both headed to King's Landing. We're both a part of whatever is coming next."

His gaze held a complexity that mirrored the conflict within. "In King's Landing, there's a different kind of game being played. I’m not the one to bring into your world, and you sure as hell don't belong in mine."

The words stung, but there was a resignation in his tone, as if he sought to shield you from the harsh realities he faced daily.

You took a step closer, unwilling to let the unspoken linger. "I can decide what world I belong to, Sandor. And right now, I want to understand what this is between us."

He sighed, a mixture of frustration and reluctance. "We're just two people caught up in a storm. Best not to overthink it."

Before you could press further, the sound of footsteps approached, and the courtyard suddenly felt less secluded. Sandor's eyes met yours once more, a silent understanding passing between you.

"In King's Landing, things will have to change," he muttered, his tone a gruff acknowledgment of the challenges ahead.

The bittersweet taste of truth lingered in the air as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead. A silent understanding passed between you, a farewell woven with unspoken regrets and the inevitability of parting ways.

As the distance between your bodies widened, the courtyard seemed to stretch infinitely. The angst that clung to the parting moments left an indelible ache, a silent ache that would resonate in the chambers of your heart long after the echoes of Sandor's footsteps faded into the shadows.

"I don't want to lose you," you confessed in your mind.

#sandor clegane smut #smut #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #the hound #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane x you #the hound x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #reader insert #got smut

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ifangirlalot · 6 months

Note

boris eating out reader hcs??

˗ˏˋ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐂𝐒 ˎˊ˗ | starring boris pavlikovsky ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

~smut!~ [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:] oral (fem receiving), some dirty talk, boris slipping into his native language (which is polish btw), broken english boris because that's adorable, angst

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

⊹˚.⋆ Alright. So this could go one of three ways. One, he's high and/or drunk off his ass, two, he's sober and is feeling particularly charitable, or three, his dad made him feel useless and he feels the need to prove his worth to you so you won't leave him for somebody else.

⊹˚.⋆ Let's start with Boris eating you out while he's drunk and/or high. He's actually pretty fuckin' messy, like Richie is, but like twice as much. He's also very noisy. He rumbles and grunts and groans, kind of like a car engine. You'd be laughing if you weren't moaning.

⊹˚.⋆ Boris is also a really big clit sucker. He'll push his tongue right up against it and flick it about until you're screaming his name at the top of you're lungs. And he wraps his tongue around your nub and sucks it until it's purple. He likes to nip at it and tug it gently before letting it snap back into place.

⊹˚.⋆ Honestly D/H Boris isn't eating you out so much as just licking and sucking. To put it quite bluntly… It's not the best experience, but he tries enough and always makes you cum.

⊹˚.⋆ If he's sober and it's just a good day for him, maybe he's in a really good mood, which is rare for him, he likes to overstimulate you with his mouth. He does it without warning as well.

⊹˚.⋆ He'll sink down to his knees at the most random of times. His favorite is while you're cooking. He wants to see if you can cook your meal without burning it while you're writhing under his tongue.

⊹˚.⋆ You could be in the kitchen just cooking something for dinner, and he'll just kneel in front of you and tug down your sweats with a cheeky grin.

"Ach, kochanie! Spread legs and let me play."

⊹˚.⋆ Sober Boris is practically a professional at oral. Plus, being a polyglot? The amount of movements that tongue can do? Oh good god, it's heaven on earth. Sometimes he'll roll his tongue while he's eating you out and just… AGH, so good.

⊹˚.⋆ Expect multiple orgasms, because once he starts he absolutely refuses to stop.

⊹˚.⋆ Now.. for when Boris needs to be reassured. When his dad has made him feel like nothing more than a piece of human garbage. When he's in this vulnerable mindset, nothing you do will dissuade him. He needs to do something, anything, to prove himself. To make sure he lets you know he doesn't want you to view him as useless.

"Bor, baby.. Come on, you don't have to do this.." "No, no.. Hush, moje serce.. Let me. Please."

⊹˚.⋆ He's very passionate with his tongue movements and he tends to cry a lot and whisper different compliments to you in Ukrainian, Russian, and Polish through his sobs. Sometimes he just desperately begs.

⊹˚.⋆ It feels good, as you'd expect it to, but fuck it's so hard to focus on it when Boris looks like he's falling apart. He's shaking, sobbing, begging.

⊹˚.⋆ At one point, he just stops giving you head and clings to your leg, begging for your love in Russian.

"Пожалуйста, о, пожалуйста, не уходи, я люблю тебя, красотка… Я буду добра к тебе до конца своей любви. Но, о Боже, не уходи..!"

T R A N S L A T I O N S

Ach, kochanie - ah, darling (Polish)

Moje serce - my heart (Polish)

Пожалуйста, о, пожалуйста, не уходи, я люблю тебя, красотка… Я буду добра к тебе до конца своей любви. Но, о Боже, не уходи..! - Please, oh please don't go, I love you, beautiful… I will be good to you until the end of my life. But, oh God, don't go..! (Russian)

#💭 ۫⠀HEADCANON.⠀୨୧⠀· ˚#⊹ . SMUT ۫ .#⊹ . ANGST ۫ .#boris pavlikovsky #boris pavlikovsky smut #boris pavlikovsky x you #boris pavlikovsky x reader #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard smut #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard x you #the goldfinch #tgf #mike wheeler #richie tozier #miles fairchild #ziggy katz #trevor spengler

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eustasskidagenda · 7 months

Note

Hello and I hope you’re doing great. Can you do some headcanons for Kidd, Doflamingo, Law, Sanji and Zoro having their nails painted by their s/o ? Like if they would accept or not and how they would act. I hope my request is okay and comprehensible, English isn’t my first language :) Thx!!

☆Kid, Doflamingo, Law, Sanji & Zoro having their nails painted by their s/o

Hello anon! Don't worry, it was perfectly understandable and English isn't my first language as well, so everything is fine ♡ Tysm for your request, it was a fun one! Hope it will match your expectations ☆

CW : g/n reader, funny, fluff, kid is an idiot but I love him, really but really slight n/sfw for Doflamingo, a bit of n/sfw at the end for Kid, word "blood" used for Kid, cursing on Kid and Zoro part, French used on Sanji part because I love when Sanji talks in French ugh.

WC : around 1,890

Kid

Have you seen him? Always with a manicure on top.

Kid is a punk, of course he likes having his nails all done, especially in a beautiful red color, like the blood of his enemies. But he is no longer capable of doing his own nails after losing his arm. He frequently asks Killer, but this time you must handle this daunting task. So good luck.

Beware, Kid is a freak with his nails. He has all the necessary tools for a flawless manicure. So first thing first, you have to use a cuticle pusher. Go ahead, he's closely watching. Do not dare mess with his nails, being a punk is a whole lifestyle and his nails and make-up have to be perfect, otherwise he's pissed off for the entire day.

You must also use the nail file. He will be furious if some nails are not cut well or are not the same length. His hand needs to be perfect for doing some angry punk stuff.

"Oh, Y/N, what the fuck are you doing? Don't put the color first; use the base. Don't you know nothing about nail art?"

Heavy sighs. His feet stomped. Sigh again. He just can't stay still for more than 5 minutes straight.

He would probably snarl at you and closely watch what you're doing with his hand. Don't dare put polish on his fingers, or you'll have to clean it.

Fidgeting the whole damn time, he's becoming increasingly annoyed. He's so impatient. Would end up laying on the table, head against the wood, with his hand on yours, sighing and growling stuff like "you're really shit at this" and "hmpf, y/n, don't use multiple layers, it makes some ugly relief, do I really have to teach you everything?".

Yes, he's a beauty influencer with his nails and makeup.

"I could do better, even with my prosthesis hand."

He stares at you impatiently all the time.

He's feeling low-key annoyed because he used to do his nails himself, but now he has to depend on Killer or you.

"Ugh, y/n, use the top coat. Don't you know nothing about nail art?"

The angry red tulip would probably say, 'ugh, you and Killer are so slow' and 'don't let the bottle open, nail polish is expensive'.

He is cheeky because he stole all of his make-up and manicure supplies.

Once everything is done, he would take a close look at your work and eventually growl, 'Yeah, I guess it will work'.

In fact, he's thanking you. In return, he offers a flawless manicure for you, and he excels at it even with just one hand. He deserves praise because his work is mesmerizing, right? Right? RIGHT?

NSFW bonus: And later in the bedroom, I guess Kid would be the kind of guy to wrap his manicured hand around your neck, like "what a beautiful collar you got there" while he slides his cock in and out of you.

Doflamingo

As soon as he heard your request, he gave an evil smile. You want to paint his nails? Fine, go ahead. But, do you really believe that someone as manipulative as him would say yes without having an idea in mind? You fool.

He would act all innocent, just nodding and letting you grab all your stuff.

Either paint his nails pink or leave them alone.

Watching your small hand in his would be a delight for him. He thinks it makes you adorable.

You're feeling nervous because he's closely watching you through his glasses. Even more when his grin pops out again. "So, if you overflow, you know I'll have to punish you?" He smirks, staying still as you frown. Oh, you're not really afraid. Doflamingo punishments are... something, to be honest. But you want to do his nails perfectly, so now you're even more focused.

Doflamingo would take note of how often you frown and concentrate on his nails. Your work is truly perfect. The pink matches his coat perfectly. But he's a bit angry because he intends to have fun with you.

He would use his devil fruit in a sneaky way to make you fail. Something really small, but enough to make your finger slip and miss the spot.

"Y/N, you were so close, it's a shame. My nails are now completely ruined. Do you want me to look foolish in front of others? I have to teach you some manners... you little brat..."

Let's assume that you are okay with being punished more frequently.

Law

"Y/N-ya, one day, I'll study your brain"

A lot of mumbles. Why do you feel the need to paint his nails? He is too busy and stressed to dedicate time to this. He is always planning mischief or taking care of his patients. Why would he sit and stay still while you're painting his poor nails? Leave him alone.

Wet puppy eyes would make him sigh heavily. "Fine."

Of course, black polish.

He may be annoyed, but he's also a teaser, so he might try to cause you trouble just to see you shake and miss your mark.

He would secretly enjoy this intimate moment with you. The warmth of your hand, your satisfied smile, and how focused you are on your task. You’re just so beautiful and attractive.

"What's top coat? You forgot it in the bedroom? Room, shambles. Here's the topcoat."

He would try to make the moment last longer, like slightly moving so you have to stop from time to time and wait for him to stay still again.

After it's finished, he would pay close attention. "Nice job."

Fortunately, he's intelligent enough to wait until the polish is completely dry before touching it. To be honest, he is pleased with the outcome. The black color matches his tattoo, and it's a small present from you. When he's alone and working late, he would look lovingly at his nails, thinking about you. He has a soft spot, but he hates showing it in front of you. He hates showing his weakness. Even if he trusts you, a part of him is traumatized and doesn't want to show that he's just a normal human with failures and weaknesses.

Low-key trying to keep his manicure as long as possible, trying to use his hands less often than usual, refusing to cook, etc., and he's kind of sad when it starts to flake.

Zoro

Poor marimo is totally confused. Like… painting his nails? What does it mean? His nails are too narrow to be painted on. Does his body resemble a canvas? Are you actually talking about a manicure? Oh. Anyway… Why him? Come on, he's really annoyed.

He's a serious guy, so why does he have his nails painted? "Do you really hate me so much to ask such a stupid thing?"

"Lemme sleep, y/n, I don't have time for your shit. Luffy would love this shitty idea, just ask him."

A lot of mumbles. He finds it absurd. Do swordsmen use painted nails to fight? Of course not. And Sanji would laugh at him. Ugh, no way. But well, you know Zoro, he would end up accepting because he wants to make you happy.

Totally dead serious and annoyed as you're locked in your room.

"What, you want to paint a cactus? Ugh, go ahead, I'm already way too involved in this mess."

As you begin to paint his nails, there will be a lot of mumbling.

But at least he's totally still and just watching with a neutral face, except when there's a slight blush on his cheeks. He can't handle how adorable you are when you're focused. But he can't handle how stupid he looks with some random cactus on his nails? As a swordsman, he's not as sophisticated as the cook with twirly eyebrows.

"Have you done?" All the cinq minutes with an annoyed tone.

It’s obvious that he would end up sleeping. He's tired and it's taking a lot of time. After finishing his nails, you have to wake him up. After a lot of yawns, he would look at his nails, sigh, and then shrug. "Happy now?"

And as you nod with a cute smile on his face, he gets all embarrassed again.

You'll have to make it later since he has given you a big favor and now you have to return it.

He would be very serious in front of the crew. But mad if the goddamn cook starts to make fun of him. "At least, I'm not a single"

Poor Sanji.

Zoro values hard work and practice. He would notice that you took a lot of time to draw all the cactuses. Until the drawing fades, he will keep the nails.

Sanji

Sanji is a lover of love. If he can do anything for his s/o, then he's the happiest man in the whole universe. But when it comes to his hands, he's always a bit nervous. He takes great care of his hands, always doing self-care to keep them smooth and perfect. His nails are always properly cut and finished.

"Mon amour, je ne sais pas si c'est une bonne idée" (my love, I don't know if it's a good idea)

He really wants to please you, but he's concerned about hurting his hands or possibly contaminating the food while cooking. Reassure him and he'll accept. He's a kind and gentle lover who wants to make you smile no matter what.

Sanji has a sense of style, so he'll request something that matches his attire. Or maybe the color of your eyes, as a small reminder of your mesmerizing beauty? You have the option to choose between two ideas, and he trusts you with the outcome.

He would gaze at you with eyes full of admiration and love, always giving you praise. "Y/N, it's beautiful, je suis si fier de toi" (I'm so proud of you)"

Honestly the best: he stays still, doesn't move his hands or touch the polish while it's drying. Really patient. Heart pounding really fast every time he crosses your gaze. Damn, he loves spending time with you so much.

Once it's all done, he's a bit sad because he wishes it could be last for a whole eternity. He would cherish his manicure and show it proudly to all the crew. And, as a reward and a thank you for the beautiful job, of course, he'll thank you with a good meal, a great drink, a lot of hugs and a sweet kiss.

"Merci, mon amour" (Thank you my love)

While he's cooking, he absolutely loves watching his nails, always laughing quietly with the memory of his lovely moment rooted in his soul.

When the manicure disappears, he would take it off while sobbing the entire time, because he's sad.

Can you re-paint my nails, Y/N?

The sweetest ♡

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fairyhaos · 1 year

Text

how seventeen act with their clingy s/o

requested by @cinnamoroxie: aaaa your writing is so cute <33 what ab svt w a pretty clingy / touchy reader? take care of yourself lovie and ty for writing this if u do!! 💓💓

notes: i hope you enjoy!

masterlist

seungcheol:

this man is the father of 12 children and a dog. do you think he'd hate clingy people???? loves it when you randomly reach over to take his hand, or play with his hair, or poke his cheeks. is totally okay with you needing to be squished up against him whenever you're in the same space, bc tbh he really wants that too

jeonghan:

pretends to hate it whenever you practically fall on top of him whenever you see him, but wraps his arms around you so tightly so you can't move away. has a hairband permanently on his wrist, partly so he can tie his hair and partly so you can fiddle with something while his hand is in the space between you. his favourite act of clinginess is when you put his head into your lap and pet his hair

joshua:

have you seen this man? he adores affection, but also becomes so awkward in the face of it. basically shuts down if you kiss his cheek more than 5 times in ten minutes. lets out those beautiful laughs whenever you basically tackle hug him every time your eyes meet. would let you put the world on pause to hug him even if the world was trying to end all around you

junhui:

clingy back with you. you have competitions w him about who is more clingy in your relationship. junhui once spent the entire day hanging like a baby bear draped over your back, and you in turn spent the next day Refusing to let go of your arm linked in his. he starts fake-crying if you're in the same room as him for more than five seconds and yet Have Not come over to immediately crush him in a hug

hoshi:

either cannot get enough of it or is a blushing mess the entire time. you pecked him on the lips one time while he was with the rest of the 96z and he went such a bright pink that it was all they talked about for a year. he pouts The Most if you suddenly let go of his hand while you're walking, but is rendered flusteredly silent if you bend down to kiss his knuckles on a whim

wonwoo:

doesn't mind it, as long as it's not too public. however, he still absolutely loves how your touchiness means that your hand is intertwined with his basically 24/7. will politely tell you if it gets too much, but you being so open with your affection helps him relax too and has definitely been the one to lie in your lap a few times when he's had a tiring day

woozi:

he's resigned himself to essentially forever being your hug toy. used to dislike it if you were attached to him for a little too long, but now he visibly pouts if you're not huddled up next to him on the couch while you're together. goes rlly red if your clinginess manifests itself in kisses, and can barely talk for a minute straight afterwards

minghao:

if you flop into his lap the minute you see him, he'll look down at you in mild panic bc he thinks that something terrible has happened to you to make you clingy. soon gets used to it tho and realises it's just your love language, and is way more relaxed when you unexpectedly put your head in his lap. lets you play with his fingers. and his rings. and his nail polish, which keeps getting chipped bc of you

mingyu:

have you seen this man's arms? i'm betting he gives the best hugs. probably works out for that exact reason. if you suddenly hug him then he's not letting go for at least half an hour. looks like a kicked puppy if you try to leave his arms even if "mingyu seriously i need to pee so badly let me go—" "no, you initiated this, you're not escaping so soon"

dokyeom:

it never even occurs to him that your behaviour could be classified as 'clingy' because he. he is the exact same as you. loves to boop your nose and will giggle so hard if you do it back to him. the idea of you two Not being touching in some way is a concept that just doesn't exist. jeonghan jokes you must have a string connecting you two or something bc you're always together

seungkwan:

he's a hyper person, can barely sit still due to his urge to kick hoshi or argue with dino. however, if you're next to him and link an arm with his or lay your head on his shoulder, he's instantly ceasing his frantic bouncing so you can comfortably touch him. if he gets too worked up tho, then he'll grab your hand instead n drag you around while telling everyone off bc even when mad he'll let you touch him for however long you need

vernon:

totally cool with it. you wanna tug on the hair on the back of his neck while you're bored? he'll tilt his head downwards slightly to give you better access. if you're wearing face paint or makeup tho, pls don't lean your head on him bc he'll get yelled at by seungkwan yet again if he goes to the guy for help in removing makeup stains from his clothes

chan:

loves when your clinginess turns into you just babying him. pinch his cheeks, play with his hair, coo all over him and he's grinning so hard and his serotonin levels are through the roof. vv chill when it comes to your affection, goes about his day super normally even if you're basically hanging off his back like a koala

request guidelines

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sapphic-coded · 8 months

Note

hey beautiful could u write about a nat x reader break up and there’s so much tension between them until they both break at a dinner party with the team and their dates 😋

Hey Friend! You're so sweet. I hope this lands somewhere in the ballpark of what you were hoping for. Thank you for the request!

No Use In You Trying, Baby

You are invited to a dinner party. Reluctantly, you go and run into your ex.

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Hurt feelings. Language Cap wouldn't approve of.

Word Count: 2.8k

You were content to spend all your time in your lab. It was your happy place. Your playground. This was where you could think clearly, and where all your best ideas originated from. Plus, it wasn’t as if you were hiding away in some basement cut off from the outside world. Your lab at the Compound was huge and had plenty of equally huge windows that allowed plenty of bright, warm sunlight in. And if you needed to socialize, there were plenty of people who walked by your lab daily.

But you didn’t want to socialize. You wanted to focus on your work because for the first time in months you were finally making progress. Broken equipment and weapons that had just been sitting in your lab were finally leaving polished and new. Projects that had just only been sitting nestled in the back of your mind were suddenly finding life. It was amazing what you could accomplish in a single day without any distractions.

You rolled backwards on your black swivel chair as you stared at your notes on the yellow legal pad in your hands. You were curious what Clint would think of your idea for this new arrow. The idea had come to you last night, and you had been thinking about it ever since. The back of your chair pressed against one of the many lab tables. You lowered your notepad and turned. All thoughts regarding your new arrow idea fled at the sight of the batons laying on the table.

You held the batons in your hands and your brow furrowed as your thumbs pressed down on the button built into the base of the weapon. The usual quiet hum of the electrical discharge was silent. You tapped both of the batons together as if that would fix the problem, but nothing changed.

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind. Familiar, warm hands settled against your stomach while her chin came to rest over your left shoulder.

“I tried that too,” her voice brushed against your ear.

You sighed as you studied the twin weapons. “It shouldn’t be too hard to fix. It’s probably a broken conductor or…” You trailed off when you felt her hands travel lower. Her fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt.

Who the hell put those there?

“Incoming call from Mr. Stark,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice penetrated the quiet of your lab.

You stood up and collected the batons. “Put him through.” You listened as Tony’s voice echoed throughout your lab. You carried the batons over to a growing stack of boxes running along the right side of your lab. You opened up the lid on one of the cardboard boxes as Tony went into detail about partnering up on another project he had in mind. You listened for key words while your thumb pressed down on the button at the base of one of the batons. You frowned. Still broken.

“I also need you at the Tower tonight,” Tony said.

You dumped the batons into the box. “Why?”

“Because I’m throwing together a little dinner party,” Tony replied. “Just the team. We haven’t done one of those in a while.”

“I’m busy,” your reply was automatic.

“You finished your last official project two weeks ago.”

“I’m working through my backlog,” you replied.

“Fine,” Tony said. There was a moment of quiet when you wondered if he had hung up the phone. Your question was answered when you turned your back to the boxes. “I’ll be very interested to see how you manage to do that without any power.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Trust me, I’m wearing my serious face,” Tony replied. “I can demonstrate if you want.”

The lights in your lab flickered.

“Fine. I’ll be there.”

– – –

You used to spend most of your time at Avengers Tower. This was where you got your start working for Tony Stark. When you first arrived at the Tower, you thought the labs there couldn’t get any better. You had been allowed to play around with tech you could only fantasize about. The amount of resources you had at your disposal was endless. It was fun. You loved creating weapons and upgrading equipment for the team. There were few things better than challenging yourself to create something better than the perfect project you just finished.

When you entered the Tower, you were tempted to just go to your old floor. You hadn’t been able to move everything from your old lab to your new one at the Compound. Playing around with what you had left behind seemed like a better idea than attending a dinner party. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see the team. You did. But it hadn’t even been a month since your last conversation with Natasha. The one that had ended badly. You knew she would be here, and the last thing you wanted to do was see her. Because then everything you had been ignoring would come rushing back. You wouldn’t know what to say, and everything would just be easier if you kept your distance.

Too bad you weren’t going to get what you wanted.

When you reached the top floor, Tony was the first to greet you. It seemed you were the last to arrive as the rest of the team were talking amongst each other. You spotted familiar faces. Most of the team had brought along their dates. It made you want to leave even more, but you put on your best smile as you made small talk with the team. Thor was in the middle of telling you a tale of his most recent battle when you saw her.

She was standing near the bar talking to Laura. Despite trying your best to focus on Thor’s story, you couldn’t help but notice that she looked beautiful. Then again, Natasha always looked stunning. The black dress she wore now only complimented her features. Or rather, the dress acted more like a reminder of a lost privilege. You gripped your glass of expensive wine tighter at the thought. Privilege? You hadn’t lost anything like that. Just a relationship that was bound to crash and burn.

“...and then he went flying off the mountain,” Thor’s laugh drew your attention back to the god. “Never thought it’d end like that.” He shook his head and then took a long drink from his flask. “So, I hear you spend your time forging new weapons.”

“Uh, yeah,” you looked past Thor. Natasha smiled at something Laura had said. Stop it. You focused back on Thor and started talking about all the projects you had completed recently. You chose to only talk about the projects you knew would keep Thor’s attention: equipment upgrades, a very close to being completed laser sword, and an attempt to copy his hammer. He found that last bit very funny.

You were grateful when everyone was summoned to the table for the actual dinner. All you had to do now was eat the food, make a tiny amount of more small talk, and then you could leave. You already had your excuses prepared. But as you approached the table, you realized that Tony had thrown a curveball your way. Tony had gone through (or rather he had someone else go through) and assigned the team seats. You already had an idea of where this was going, and your suspicion was confirmed when you found your seat right next to Natasha.

You looked over at Tony. He winked at you, and you were tempted to leave. Instead, you sat down in your seat and set your expensive wine down on the table. You could do this. She hadn’t approached you yet this entire evening. The feeling of not wanting to interact with each other was mutual. You both could talk to other people. This was fine.

The smell of her perfume hit you first. It grabbed hold of you and yanked you back through countless memories. You remembered the smell of jasmine with the barest hint of vanilla flooding your senses when she pulled you in for that first kiss. You remembered how your legs turned to jelly, and you were terrified that you were going to fall. You didn’t fall. Somehow, you stayed on your feet until the kiss was over. Your mind had gone blank. You had felt painfully dumb. What were you supposed to do?

She smiled as her hands settled at your waist. “Aren’t you going to kiss me back?”

You looked to your left as she sat down in her seat. She looked gorgeous and happy. As if nothing life altering had happened. You felt a spike of jealousy. She probably had forgotten all about you by now. Breaking off your relationship hadn’t changed anything for her. You had been right to doubt your relationship all along. You had only been a convenient fuck. You were so stupid to believe all those promises she made you. She certainly couldn’t keep many of them.

You looked away and took a good, long drink of whatever Tony had poured into your glass. A wait staff appeared and set plates filled with delicious smelling food down in front of everyone. You set your now empty glass down, and another waiter appeared to refill it. You picked up your knife and fork and began cutting into the meat. You could do this. You should just pretend she isn’t here. Rogers was sitting to your right. You could always just make conversation with him.

“Is this what we’re doing now?” her voice was low enough for only you to catch.

You forced yourself to keep your focus on your plate as you continued to cut into the meat. Red juices leaked from what was probably a delicious cut of meat. “Yup.” You stabbed your fork into the tender meat and pushed it into your mouth. You chewed. Fuck. It was good. You heard her sigh, and you didn’t need to look at her to know she was also, most likely, shaking her head.

“It’s a bad move,” she said.

You bit back the first thought that came to mind and continued to eat.

“This is obviously a setup. They’re trying to fix things,” she continued when you didn’t respond.

You looked around at the table as you chewed. Everyone else was busy talking amongst themselves. You swallowed and still refused to look at her. “There’s nothing to fix.” She didn’t respond right away and you reached for your glass. Maybe this was all about to end.

“Then I suggest we play along unless you want to go through this again,” she said.

You set your glass down before you could take a sip and finally looked over at her. “I’m not going to play along.” You spotted the familiar look of frustration cross her face. It didn’t surprise you. Whenever you refused to go along with any of her plans, she got annoyed with you. You should have known from the very beginning that this relationship was never going to work. You felt stupid for even trying.

“Fine. I guess I’ll see you at the next dinner party,” Natasha looked away from you.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you stabbed your fork into another piece of meat. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be too busy to attend the next one.”

“Didn’t you already try that excuse?” she asked.

You shoveled the piece of meat into your mouth and chewed. You didn’t bother to ask how she knew that. It was Natasha. She knew everything about you. You hated it. You hated that she was right. You hated sitting here so close to her. Every minute that passed was just more reminders of what had made you happy. It was gone, and you just wanted it all to stay dead. Why hadn’t Natasha shown up with the date? Why didn't you? You could think of a dozen ways you could have approached this whole stupid thing differently.

“Y/N,” her voice was softer now and you felt a burning behind your eyes.

“I can’t do this,” you heard the waver in your voice. You shouldn’t have come. You knew what would happen. You knew you would see her. You knew you would feel all these things. You weren’t sure if you couldn’t hear the other conversations happening around the table because people had stopped talking or because your quickening heart beat was now filling your ears. “I can’t.”

You felt her hand fall over your own, and you quickly snatched your hand back and stood up. You felt the rest of the team’s eyes on you as you quickly left. You heard their voices all rise up as one, but you didn’t look back. You just needed to leave. Get some fresh air. Go back to the Compound and forget about all of this.

Your pace quickened as you left the team behind and hurried towards the elevator. You were grateful that the doors parted immediately upon pushing the button. You stepped inside and pressed the button that would take you down to the garage. Your vision blurred and you felt a hot tear spill down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Stupid. This had been stupid. The doors started to close and just when you thought your escape was complete, Natasha slipped into the elevator.

The doors shut completely and you shook your head. “No.” Your hand reached out towards the panel of buttons. You went to push the button that would force the elevator doors back open, but Natasha grabbed your hand before you could. “Let go, Nat. I’m not going back to that stupid party.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” she said and released your hand the moment the elevator began to descend.

Your hand dropped back down to your side. “Then why are you here?” You realized that was the wrong question to ask as her red lips parted to answer. You shook your head. “No! No. I don’t want to know. Just leave me alone.”

She took a small step closer to you, and you instinctively stepped back and felt your back pressed against the cool wall of the elevator. “You’re not even going to give me a chance?”

“A chance to do what? Lure me back to your side with more fake promises of some happy life together? You can’t use that bullshit on me anymore. I was just a convenient fuck for you,” you felt another tear slip, and you used the back of your hand to wipe it away.

“You broke up with me,” she argued.

“Because you pushed me away,” your voice wavered again, and you hated it. “Every time I tried to help or understand, you kept me out. The only time you let me in was when you wanted to fuck me. The only time you wanted me around was if you wanted to have sex with me. I wasn’t your girlfriend. I was your toy.”

“I know.”

You were ready for anything. You had replayed all your arguments in your head hundreds of times. You were ready for any of her arguments. Except for that. Those two words caught you completely off guard.

“I messed up,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

What was happening? This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You were supposed to argue back and forth until you were both spent and upset and eager to get away from each other.

“Please let me try again.”

She had somehow managed to get even closer to you. Her voice was soft, and her olive green eyes were searching your face. She was trying to gauge your emotions. You could only wonder what she saw because you didn’t know how to feel. Tears still threatened to spill down your cheeks from all the pain you had been shoving down these past few weeks. Walking away from her had hurt so much. Because you did love her, and it had killed you to realize that she didn’t love you.

You wanted to leap at this chance. You wanted it so badly, but you were hesitant. You had barely been able to walk away from her last time. You weren’t sure you would be able to do it again if all of this happened again. But you wanted to believe it wouldn’t. You wanted to believe that there was still some life in this dying husk of a relationship.

You didn’t realize what had happened until her lips were pressed against yours. It felt like your first kiss all over again, only better. It felt familiar. The kiss was soft but needy. It reminded you of all the other ways she had kissed you before. The smell of her perfume flooded your senses, and you just wanted to collapse into her arms. You were tired of being angry. Tired of being upset. You wanted this. The kiss ended far too soon, and you started to lean forward to chase her retreating lips.

You saw her smile when the elevator reached the garage floor, and the doors opened. You didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, you waited for the elevator doors to close before you leaned forward to kiss her back.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #fanfic request #sapphic september #i'm tempted to write a part two but i'm not sure

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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months

Note

I got the Passion For Fashion brainworms, and since you're guilty for it you WILL get my headcannons.

Since Clockwork made them know spanish as if it was their first language, they only talk in spanish with eachother, more often than not completely forgetting that they are talking in SPANISH.

Danny and Dan like bickering and banter but since they were basically eachother once upon a time they know eachother's limits perfectly. That causes them to say a lot of agressive and downright nasty stuff to eachother so it always sounds like they hate eachother and are constantly fighting.

Clockwork gave them the "essentials" for making clothes, so Dan will absolutely just spam Danny's phonenwith pictures and descriptions of a sewing gadget or tool and be like "Danny i need this. Please. I know you keep making stuff don't lie to me. I know you can do it so please just make it. Danny we are too poor to buy this. Danny PLEASE I need it" until Danny accepts making the thing in true Fenton fashion.

Danny and Dan making up names for themselves because no sane parent names both of their twins "Daniel"

"I swear to the Ancients I will NOT hesitate to go Cain Instinct on your ass-"

Making fun of Vlad together. Just. Making fun of him in general.

The pmoment Bruce decides to show some interest in the twins Danny go home running and be like "Dan. Dan I fuckked up. Dan there's another billionaire after us. Dan how do I always fuck this up." and since they're both dumbasses they panic together and the batkids (who are most likely listening in with a bug or smth) are all just laughing at Bruce's sour face.

Dan headcannons cuz i love him:

I think that even if they're identical twins, Dan has longer hair with a dark gray streak (cuz of vlad ofc)

even if he is a fashion maker he probably goes everywhere wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

Dan forcefully makes Danny do skincare to make his appearance look good but will never even drink a glass of water for his own health.

I love them and spent the entire day without internet so now I'm devoting myself thanks for the content <3<3

I love all of these!! Its beautiful!

Danny and Dan not realizing they slipped into Spanish is such a mood tbh. Sometimes, my coworkers and I do that, and my non Spanish speaking coworker just stares at us until we snap.

Lowkey they dislike each other, but they also love each other, and no one can tell with the insults they threw. Danny and Dan live and breath the "Only I can be mean to my sibling!"

Danny would make Dan anything he asked for if it meant keeping his Obsession healthy. On the one hand, it gives him something to do and, on the other hand, keeps Dan from jumping off the deep end again. He does get annoyed with Dan spamming him at three in the moring for "A machine that could double bedazzled and polish!"

Both kept their names as Danny and Dan, so neither is Daniel. Clockwork did that when he made their files. He knew if he tried to change their names, both would refuse to answer.

They turned Vlad into a verb. Danny trips over air? "You went and Vlad-ed everything bro" Dan refuses to shower cause he has some embroidery to do? "Ugh you Vlad-ed all of my scent receivers" sometimes when the fight is really big Danny will yell "YOUR JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER VLAD!" and Dan will gasp dramatically before bursting into tears. ( Cause he took Vlad ghost that makes him half vlad and Dan has to live with that)

Bruce would never understand why the twins are more freaked out by Brucie Wayne then Batman. His kids think it's hilarious.

Dan and Danny are identical down to the hairstyle in my au, but That will change with time. Dan will grow out his hair to put it in a man bun, while Danny will cut it short. And yes, Dan wears nothing by sweats or PJs. He doesn't care about the clothes after they are finished. He just likes making them.

Dan was a pure ghost for almost ten years before Clockwork messed with his body and threw it back into its teens. He is not used to doing most basic human needs like showering, eating, sleeping, and, of course, drinking water. Danny has to remind him his headache is due to lake of all the things mentioned. That will not stop him from designing a strict beauty regime for Danny, including hourly water intake.

Last little detail, both are terrible at social interactions. Dan beacuse he thinks of himself as a ghost and doesn't like humans so he avoids them if he can and Danny cause he sees everyone as unimportant since he's planning on going home. Neither of them know anything about Batman besides what clockwork told them. As of part 3 they didn't even know he was a vigilante. So this lake of information means they don't know anyhring about the rest of Gotham and that will play a big part in how they react to villains.

Also yes, Dan was being genuinely interested when he flirted with Killer Croc, but that's cause he thought he was a EverBurning. A group of Lizard men in the ghost zone is similar to the FarFrozen society only they live in volcano surrounded by lava.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #mun speaks #passion for fashion #side notes and headcanons

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minhosbxtch · 3 months

Text

Shadows and Silence

Azriel x reader

Yall voted Azriel so here we go

Warnings: violence, mentions of SA, mentions of physical abuse, language

It'd been 400 years since you last spoke. 400 years since a single word had been uttered from your mouth. 400 years since your mother had been executed. 400 years since your tongue had been cut off.

Beron, being the dick that he was, had decided your mother was desirable and he wanted her. And Beron being the dick that he was took her.

Fast forward 9 months and you were born. Your mother, disgusted for how she came to be pregnant pretty much ignored you. Until you reached the age of 6.

On your sixth birthday your mother decided that enough was enough. She started to groom you into the perfect wife. To be pretty, proper, and polite. She also introduced you to the court, where people came to notice your unusual likeness to Beron.

Beron who also heard these rumors faintly remembered what he'd done to your mother, so it was possible you might be his.

So one day when you were roughly 14 he brought you and your mother to have dinner with him. Your mother, thinking he might marry you off to his oldest son, Eris, who she knew was your half-brother, but the power she would gain from that? The reputation?

So she went and dragged you with her.

Turns out it was not that at all.

No not in the slightest. Once you both had arrived, guards had instantly seized you both. Killing your mother almost immediately, Beron, instead of killing you, had cut your tongue out so you could not tell. He wasn't aware you could write though. But it didn't matter. What would being related to him change?

Eris was there though. He knew everything. What Beron did to your mother and that you were his half-sister. He hid behind a column as Beron and the guards left you crying and bleeding out on the clean, polished floors.

After a minute you passed out from the blood loss and that's when Eris made his move. He knew you would most certainly lash out or hurt yourself more if he approached you like this, so he had waited until you were unaware.

Picking you up and gently examining you're mouth he saw that one of the soldiers perhaps took pity on you and cauterized your tongue.

So he took you to the only place he could, his mother's.

His mother, had instantly sent for healers as he explained what he knew. He told her that she had no other family and no place to go. His mother pursed her lips before coming to the conclusion that the only solution was to make her a personal maid. That way she could keep her close and mostly protected from Beron.

All of this she had told you after you had woke up, a day later.

She had become a true mother in your eyes. And to her, you were the daughter she never had. You had also been close with Eris. Even though you two were only half-siblings you were both closer than with any other sibling, perhaps Lucien was a close second though.

Usually the Lady of Autumn gave you the day off today so you could relax and try to forget what happened today, despite your protests. But today there was an important meeting including all of the High Lords. She wanted to take you along since she was Eris' support, she wanted you to be her support.

She gave you an orangey-red long sleeve gown to wear. You would play no role. All you had to do was stand behind your Lady and say nothing.

So you did.

You paid no attention to what was currently going on in the room, choosing to admire the beautiful architecture of the Day Court palace.

Suddenly the talking in the room ceased and all eyes turned to you. Your eyes met those of amber sitting across from from you, studying, calculating.

"She's a mute," Beron sneered, dragging your attention to him, "good for nothing except her silence."

High Lord Rhysand tilted his head, eyes narrowing and smirking at you, "She is of Night Court descent."

"No she's Autumn through and through," said the High Lord of Autumn. "She might be unworthy scum, but not that much."

You looked at the ground before feeling a gentle caress in your mind, causing your head to snap up meeting the High Lord of Night's gaze yet again.

Is he telling the truth? Rhysand spoke in her mind.

I- I don't know. My mother's been dead for over 400 years. She might've been she didn't look like she was from Autumn. You thought replying to his question.

At a slight tilt of his head you nodded and gave your permission for him to search your memories.

It was a strange sensation, him rifling through your memories. He saw each and last one of them. From that one night, taking care of the Lady after a nasty argument with Beron, and times where Eris was just as vulnerable as you were.

His presence jolted as he saw your mother. A flash of recognition.

You know her? You thought in surprise.

Yes. I do know her. His voice was shaky, almost horrified.

But you didn't care. You wanted answers. Answers you waited 400 years for.

So? Can you tell me about her? Anything? You pleaded. You didn't care what you just needed something, anything, any scrap of information. To prove that at least one of your parents were even slightly a good person.

The High Lord hesitated but relented, sensing her thoughts. She... Your mother's name is Mithrianyus Arwel. She was a resident of Hewn City and she... if Keir had a women that he'd trust to be his right-hand, it would have been her. She was incredibly brutal and had an old view of how young females should be treated, that their happiness did not matter. She thought the only use for them was to gain political power.

While my sister and mother were alive, she took it upon herself to try to corrupt her, but my father decided enough was enough. He'd been looking for a good excuse to kick her out. She never liked my mother. Thought she was above her. That my mother was Illyrian scum. Not worthy of even looking at the High Lord, much less his mate.

At his words your heart sank. Even as you had prepared yourself for the worst, it still hurt. You had allowed a kernel of hope to blossom in your chest, but before it could unfurl it had been squashed.

You felt the High Lord leave your mind as he suddenly announced to the room, "Y/N's mother hailed from the Night Court and unless her father would like to claim her then she belongs in the Night Court," he said with a pointed glance at Beron.

No words were spoken until Rhysand beckoned you over to his side. As you rose Beron suddenly decided to speak up. Your heart skipped a beat thinking he would claim you but instead he said, "Once you realize all she's good for is keeping her mouth shut and whoring around then you'll still have to keep her."

You just kept your head down and kept walking, ignoring the stares you could feel prickling against your skin. You stopped when a loud snarl sounded in front of her, from the Night Court's area.

You looked up to see the same amber-eyed male snarling at Beron, eyes blazing. Your eyes widened as black tendrils snaked around his form. Other then his eyes, you hadn't really looked at him, thinking he would be offended that such scum like you was even looking your way.

But now that you're paying attention, you noticed he is easily the most handsome Fae you had ever seen, including everyone in the room. His eyes were like drops of honey which had quickly hardened as his anger sparked. He was muscular but slim and his face- Mother his goddamn pretty face. He was darkly handsome, ethereal even. Like an angel of death. His leathery wings only added to the factor, in sharp contrast to his tan, muscular skin.

His eyes met yours again and lightened, despite his face not softening, his eyes welcomed you. Like a unknown familiarness.

As you reached their side High Lord Rhysand beckoned you to a new chair that wasn't there earlier, next to a different male.

He shared similar characters, but was broader and more muscular. He also had soft eyes. Not pitying, you hated the look of pity people gave you. Taking you off guard, he gave you a broad welcoming smile. You were shocked but gave a small, uncomfortable smile back.

Instead of looking up and accidently meeting Beron's eyes, you looked down and fiddled at your hands. Anything to not seem noticeable.

When the kind male next to you gave your shoulder you finally looked up to see the Autumn Court gone.

At your sigh of relief he let out a quiet chuckle and said, "Yeah I never liked them either. I'm Cassian", nodding to you.

You motioned to Cassian and he seemed to get the message.

"Yes. I know you can't talk, but I figured I'd introduce myself to you so you had at least one friendly face that you knew," he said with a large smile.

Did he always smile this much?

You looked around the Night Court section, scanning, seeing if you recognized anyone else when you met eyes with that male for the third time.

He didn't say anything but gave you a nod and a slight smile.

Cassian saw your roam around his court.

He leant down next to your ear so only you could hear and said, "The one your currently staring at is Azriel. Hey, there's no problem staring at him. I find myself doing that all the time. What? Hey he's hot!" Cassian protested as you elbowed him in the side.

At your look he cleared his throat and continued, "Anyway you already know Rhys, that's Mor and that's Feyre as you probably know. There's gonna be more but I'll introduce you to them when we get back."

Back where? You didn't care.

You decided then that you liked Cassian.

Very much.

-'~{~}~'-

The meeting hadn't gone on for much longer. After Beron left a lot of the tension had vanished.

Well that was until Tamlin showed up, made a shit load of dirty comments about Feyre, given you a look that had you shrinking in on yourself and Cassian and Azriel bristling.

With nobody coming to the High Lady's defense you wished you could speak. You didn't even know her but Mother he needed to chill.

After another comment finally Azriel said, his voice dangerous, "Be careful how you speak about my High Lady."

Holy Mother. As if he wasn't sexy enough.

Cassian nudged you and whispered in your ear, "You're gawking." He quickly snapped his head around to act like it never happened. As you glared harshly at the side of his face you could swear you could see the slight outline of a smile on his face, as if he was trying not to laugh.

After Tamlin's little tantrum Rhysand decided he was done and it was time to go.

To go back to wherever Cassian explained they had to winnow and then left for Mor to take him.

She scowled.

He left her.

Maybe she didn't like Cassian as much as she thought.

You didn't know what to do so you just awkwardly stood there until Azriel approached you.

He smiled softly and said, "Would you like me to take you? Mor is taking Cassian because he can't winnow."

You scrunched your brows in confusion. How could Azriel winnow but not Cassian?

At your confused look he cleared his throat at said, "I can't winnow but I can do something similar. I can use my shadows to transfer me places. If it makes you uncomfortable I can let them know and you could switch?" Azriel offered.

You shook your head. You were slightly nervous but didn't want to be a burden and besides, Azriel seemed kind and like he didn't mean harm, at least currently.

He slowly extended a scarred hand out for you to grab, a stray shadow circled his wrist, also curling towards you as if it couldn't help it. You hesitantly reached for it.

His hand was warm, but not unpleasant. Here and there you could feel cool brushes of the shadows. You could feel the ridges of his scars, but they didn't make you uncomfortable. You had some just like that from Beron.

"Ready?" Azriel spoke quietly. He seemed like a quiet person. It was nice. He was quiet but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence.

You nodded and gasped as shadows wrapped around you and Azriel. Turning your head towards him you saw he had a smile on his face at your awe.

In a blink your vision was completely swallowed by the black and your only tether was Azriel's hand which you squeezed tightly as if he was your lifeline.

Suddenly your vision cleared and you were standing on a gorgeous balcony that overlooked a sprawling city next to a river below.

Barely seconds later, Feyre, Mor, Rhysand, and Cassian was also standing right in front of you.

You knew you were still holding Azriel's hand but you didn't want to let go. He seemed to sense as much and thankfully, also didn't let go even as Cassian came over smirking at their conjoined hands.

Azriel quickly followed Feyre into the house, away from Cassian so you did too, not wanting to hear his teasing or let Azriel go.

Feyre lead the tour which started in the living rooms, kitchen, eating areas, and finally the bedrooms.

The entire time Azriel's hand was in your grasp. Occasionally, he would squeeze your hand, as if checking in. Each time your heart skipped a beat as you squeezed back. At first you were worried you were bothering him, that he had more important things to do but as you went through the tour he seemed content, even stopping Feyre to tell you something she left out.

At the very end Feyre led you up the stairs to a long hallway, pointing out everyone's bedrooms as she went.

She stopped at the second-to-last door on the left and motioned to the door.

"Here's where you'll be staying. All of your clothes and things are still in the Autumn Court so we can go shopping whenever you would like. In the meantime you can borrow stuff from Mor and I," she said with another smile.

You didn't bother to try to tell the High Lady that you had nothing there that was worth saving anyway.

No servant did.

For the first time since you arrived, you let go of Azriel's hand to open the door. Was that just your imagination or did he also look disappointed.

As you opened the door you were in awe of the large room furnished with a ginormous bed in the corner. There were armchairs, tables, and couches tastefully placed around the room. In the other corner there was a large fireplace.

You probably wouldn't use that since fire would probably be too soon.

Across from the bed, there was the door to a large bathroom. Inside there were shelves filled with different shampoos, towels, conditioners, and washes. Across from the selves there was a large sink with a mirror overtop of it. Taking up almost half of the large bathroom, there was a bathtub, if you could call it that. It was practically a pool for how large it was and the fact that it was built into the floor.

You turned around to thank Feyre but she was gone. The only one there was Azriel who watched her reaction, grinning.

He cleared his throat offered you a blank notebook and pencil. "This is just if you want to talk to someone y'know?"

You tilted your head at his nervousness. The infamous, terrifying Shadowsinger, scared of you?

You took the notebook out of his hands and wrote a simple note:

Thank you.

He nodded and started to turn away before turning back and saying, "Can you fight? I know it's a stupid question..." Azriel's voice trailed off as you wrote:

A little. Eris taught me in case there was any males that he couldn't protect me from.

"You were close with Eris? From what I've gathered about him he doesn't care about anything," he asked, genuine curiosity on his face.

We were close. He's the one who saved me from bleeding out and took me to his mother. He also protected me from various males that tried to have their way with me.

Despite Azriel's deep hatred of Eris, he respected him slightly for how he protected his mother and you. Perhaps there was a half-decent male in there, but a coward.

"Here you're welcome to get some sleep and if you need anything just ask the House," Azriel said while shutting the door, "I'll have Mor or Feyre bring clothes."

Honestly the only thing you wanted to do was take a bath. You needed to wash off the dirt and the stink of the day.

As you walked in the bathroom, you noticed the bathtub was completely filled and steaming. You slid off you're clothes and dipped a foot in the water.

It was too hot. It reminded you of fire. Beron's fire. The fire that had burned you everytime you were too slow in bringing something in his presense.

You couldn't bathe in that water. Maybe if you waited, the water would cool off.

So you waited, and waited.

When there was a knock at your door you scrambled to your feet and quickly threw on your dress from the Autumn Court.

Feyre was standing behind the door a bunch of clothes piled in her hands. She frowned when she saw you hadn't taken a bath yet.

"Were you waiting for me to bring other clothes or what," she said gesturing to the open bathroom door.

You grabbed the notepad and wrote:

The water is too hot. I tried to wait for it to cool down but it didn't. I don't like hot things.

At your note Feyre's face softened. "I can cool it off for you," she offered, "How would you like it?"

Almost cold. Room temperture?

Your baths, (if you could call them that), that you had as a maid had just been taking a quick dip in frozen water with several other girls.

Feyre nodded and strode to the bathroom where she knelt next to the bathtub and waved her hand over the water.

"Is this better?"

You dipped a foot in. Gods, yes that was better. It wasn't cold enough for you to shiver in but it was cool. Sort of like a lake on a warm day.

You nodded.

"Good. There are clothes on the bed. There's undergarments, dress, pants, shirts, shoes, socks, and nightgowns. If there's anything else you need just come find me or someone. Oh, and if you don't want to write to me just let down your mental shields and we can talk mind-to-mind," she said with a smile.

You let your mental shields down and you could feel the High Lady's presence in your mind.

Do you perhaps have an extra satchel or small bag. Azriel gave me a notebook and I wish to carry it with me. You thought trying to keep thoughts of the handsome male out of your mind.

Of course, I can have it ready by tonight at dinner. She spoke, tinged with amusement as she walked out, closing the door behind her.

You built your mental walls up and took your clothes off before getting into the bathtub. You saw your scars and burn marks in the mirror. Your bathrooms didn't have mirrors. Only the people you served and you kept yourself completely covered for those encounters.

Mother it'd been so long since you could relax and the bath did just that. Once you finished washing, you sat on one of the steps and allowed yourself to melt against the water.

You forced yourself to get out to not fall asleep and ignored the mirror as you strode past.

You sorted through the pile of clothes on the bed. There was everything from dresses that were practically lingerie to a set of Illyrian leathers. As you peered closer to the leathers you saw a note saying:

I saw these weren't being used and figured you should have them if you wanted to train. If you want to, just find me, Cassian, or Rhys and tell us. -Azriel

You figured training would be a good thing to do to build muscle and also to defend yourself.

You pushed thoughts of that aside and dressed in a pair of leggings and a simple sweater and opened the door to get dinner with your notepad.

Tinkling laughter echoed from the staircase that led to the dining room. You walked down the stairs, feet silent and came to at the entrance to the dining room.

No one noticed you there, nor heard your feet from what you could tell.

Suddenly a presence appeared next to you and you turned to see Azriel beckoning you to sit in the other open spot.

It was between Cassian and Feyre. You thanked the Mother that you didn't have to sit in the other which was between two unfamiliar females.

One had a short black hair and silver eyes and the other looked like Feyre, but a much more delicate version.

There was another women standing in the doorway. Sharp would be the best word to describe her. Sharp cheekbones, sharp eyes.

Shit. Her sharp eyes snatched to you but you stared right back even as she approached you.

"I haven't seen you before. Are you also a member of their perfect little family?" Mother even her voice was sharp.

You snorted and wrote on your notepad.

Mother I hope not.

She smirked and stuck her hand out, a human gesture. "I'm Nesta."

Ah the High Lady's sister. So the soft one must be Elain.

You shook her hand and wrote your name.

"You're new I haven't met you before," she said eyeing you.

They claimed me from the Autumn Court.

"So you're the one they were talking about. They were discussing if you could be trusted. Rhysand said he looked into your mind and didn't see anything bad so they're keeping you I guess. But why can't you talk?"

Instead of writing anything down, you opened your mouth and showed her the absence of your tongue. Instead of the pitying look most people gave you, her gaze hardened, angry.

"Just another reason to murder Beron I suppose," she said threateningly.

You just wrote:

Please do. And do it where I can watch. Or let me have a turn.

She laughed at that, a cruel, harsh sound that had everyone pausing their conversations.

You grinned. You liked Nesta and her sharp tongue.

Where are you going to sit? You wrote.

Whatever happiness lingered in her face vanished at the question. "I'm not going to."

Then I'm not either.

That was the start of your friendship with Nesta. On the days you trained she would sit and watch you. You would both sit in the library and read each others books. She introduced you to her world of smut, smut, and more smut. Honestly you didn't complain one bit. I mean how could you?

Your friendship with Cassian also progressed. Sometimes he would train you, sometimes Azriel would. He also gave you books. They were a lot less interesting than Nesta's but you read them.

He was there for every step of your recovery. I mean so was Nesta but she was also trying to recover and didn't express her emotions as much as Cassian did. Honestly the tension between those two... You wished they would shut up and get together at this point.

Mor you didn't really click with. I mean she was always nice but her personality was overwhelming sometimes. She loved physical affection. You had nothing against that but you didn't like people touching you as much as she does with people.

Feyre on the other hand understood you more then she let on. She always knew when you were struggling and offered a hand. She also knew you couldn't go on extravagant spending sprees like Mor did, especially when it wasn't your money. She was content just enjoying your company without having conversations, and when you did it was nice not having to write, since she spoke in your mind.

Rhysand you didn't really have a relationship with. He was your High Lord and was always busy, so you two didn't spend much time one-on-one. And whenever you did and it was silent, the silence was uncomfortable. He knew everything about you, had seen it in your head, (with your permission of course), but it made you slightly nervous that you were so vulnerable to someone that powerful.

But Azriel, he knew everything. That was because you trusted him. He had told you everything about his past, so you told him about yours. You held each other in the early hours of dawn due to the nightmares you each had. There so far, was no mating bond with each other but you felt like you didn't need one. You two were close enough that you would tell each other anything. You liked this feeling, completely bare to someone else that was also completely bare. Physically and mentally.

You had shown each other your scars. He knew the feeling of the burns, the light prickle that turned into an inferno. Like you needed to scratch the skin off. His room was always cool for that precise reason. When you woke up screaming in the night, he was there to hold you, his shadows caressing your bare skin. He knew of the males that hurt you, he fought all his instincts to not go off and find them to tear them apart. No, he swore you could have that chance.

He hadn't minded kissing you even without your tongue. It took some getting used to be he didn't care. Didn't care that you couldn't talk. He bought you notebook after notebook so you could talk to him. There were separate ones that only stayed in his room, completely filled up that he always took when he went on missions, to read over when he wasn't with you.

Once your relationship became public, he doted on you every chance he got. Taking you to shops, buying you anything your eye snagged on, or just holding you during meetings with the Inner Circle.

At first he knew you weren't super comfortable with touch, so he made it his mission to help you. At first it started with small touches, light kisses, and holding hands. Then it went to having an arm around your shoulders or waist. Once you became comfortable, he held you publicly or had a hand on your thigh.

You never were unfomfortable with him no matter who else you were with. He made you feel safe. How could you? He was home.

Your home.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff

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itsbuckytm · 4 months

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Catton's Little Puppet / Oliver Quick & Felix Catton

summary: Oliver had harbored a long-standing obsession with both the reader and Felix. Despite his discomfort at witnessing the two together, he saw it as a chance to strategically earn their trust in an unconventional manner. It was an opportunity for Felix to potentially welcome him into their partnership, transforming the dynamic into a trio where they would all be equals, yet each holding a unique role—masters entwined in the intricate dance of their own puppetry.

ps: English is not my primary language, so I apologize for any errors or mistakes. If you choose to use or replicate my work without proper credit, it may be subject to being flagged.

tag list: @bananzaa @sisgotdemons enjoy!

Oliver hated everything about you when you two first met.

Oliver hated the way your hips seamlessly moved to the rhythm of the music. Your smile captured the essence of every words from the songs you knew by heart. As you clutched the now-empty beer cup, poised to pour another for yourself, Felix's arm effortlessly wrapped around your waist. In a swift motion, he pulled you to his side, mirroring the smile Oliver had admired the first time actually meeting Felix. Oliver couldn't help but think that if he averted his gaze for even a second, Felix's and your lips would meet. The scene drew him back into the room later that evening, only for Felix and you to vanish until the sunrise.

Oliver hated when, the next day, you walked into class looking all polished and preppy. Although he knew that it was only an illusion, as you had once shared with him that it was simply a matter of practice. Even suggesting he follow suit that same morning. During Oliver's first week, you didn't have much information about him, like everyone. Oliver had found himself completely withdraw by your beauty upon entering on that same morning when you arrived late– clearly hungover from the homecoming of the school’s first day and an obvious amount of hickeys left from Felix. How Oliver wanted his to also be marked through Felix’s.

Oliver hated witnessing your interactions with Felix. Typically, he would pay no attention if it were any other girls, but there was something about you that intrigued him. It all truly began when Felix introduced you to him on the same evening after borrowing Oliver's bike. "So, you're the faithful hero who saved Felix. But in the end, who can resist such charm, am I right, dear?" That marked the second time Oliver had heard your voice, yet this time it felt genuine – natural and almost too angelic to let go until its last breath. “Oh, right! Where are my manners? I'm Y/N. And you?”

“Oliver, but you can call me Ollie.” He said without insistence, a departure from his earlier encounters with Felix in person. A surge of confidence enveloped him, particularly as you extended your hand for a proper handshake, a gesture Felix took delight in complimenting, deepening Oliver's infatuation. “And thanks to Y/N's wonderful parents for bringing such a polite daughter into the world.” Oliver, if he had the courage, would have agreed wholeheartedly, envisioning a passion and intensity in a kiss that rivaled Felix's. However, the reality weighed on Oliver, when he heard your beautiful voice once more. “Oh, stop it. Felix has a way with compliments smoother than butter. But I'll remember your gratitude, Ollie.”

And he did remember to. How you would lean in to give him a peck on the cheek. Not that he was special, considering the fact that you always did that whoever you had meet. Nonetheless, for Oliver it meant something more, something that he too would be able to feel, to feel that same love you have for Felix just as you would for Oliver.

Being in proximity to Felix and his circle of friends was coveted by many at the school, and an invitation to Saltburn was a sought-after opportunity. Unless someone had established connections within the group, receiving an invitation was usually contingent on existing friendships. Such was the anticipation for Oliver, who found himself in this situation when Felix enthusiastically proposed the idea of inviting him. It wasn't merely an act of gratitude; rather, it stemmed from Oliver's generosity in lending his bike to a stranger, who had now become a valued friend to him.

Upon your arrival, Oliver caught sight of you standing alone. From the outset, what captivated him was your independence; you didn't always rely on Felix's wealth, and you had a sense of self that wasn’t easily spoiled. “Ollie!” You exclaimed, swiftly kicking off your overly tight heels and dashing towards him. You cupped his face and planted quick pecks all over, leaving him delighted by the touch of your moisturized lips on his cheek. But quickly caught up by someone’s chuckle echoing in a distance. “Jesus, Y/N. You're going to suffocate the poor thing.” Remarked Venetia, welcoming the playful scene with a teasing tone. She observed Oliver's reaction to your enthusiastic greeting, as a way to make the new comer even more relentless of his own. As soon as you released from him, you excused yourself from the exuberance and headed towards the Catton's mansion. “She's a firecracker, this one. Quite surprising that she's into nerds. I wonder what Felix will think.” She mused with a smirk.

Felix's potential thoughts were the constant contemplation in Oliver's mind during the initial days of his stay at the Catton residence. Beyond that, he marveled at how effortlessly open and welcoming you were, despite having only briefly connected during your time in school. While he appreciated the sound of your voice and the way you interacted with him and Felix, it was observing you in quiet moments that truly captivated Oliver. This fascination grew into an unexpected and almost unbelievable obsession, especially considering his initial attraction to Felix. The idea of being paired with anyone else was inconceivable, yet, over time and thanks to Venetia's indiscretions, Oliver discovered that you and Felix were in an open relationship, a decision made to explore new dynamics. You had said. What Oliver didn't know, among the many selected for this unconventional pairing, was that he would be the chosen one.

“You think this is a good idea?” You questioned one morning, adorned in your favorite gown, a cup of coffee in hand, awaiting breakfast as a drowsy Oliver entered the room. “Don't worry.” Felix reassured, leaning in close with his lips almost grazing the crook of your neck. His fingers traced a playful path around your waist, eliciting a chuckle from you at his teasing. "Remember when you said you wanted to fuck a nerd this year? Well, he's all yours." Felix declared confidently, causing a subtle blush to tint your cheeks. “But also yours too, don't forget.” You reminded him. As much as Felix hesitated to acknowledge his feelings, he too harbored an attraction to Oliver. The catch, however, was Felix's love for control. Witnessing you with Oliver was, in fact, more thrilling for him than you might have anticipated.

Upon Oliver's entrance, a palpable tension filled the room as he observed Felix already standing close to you, a subtle fear gripping him that his presence might disrupt the connection you shared. Foolish man you are. Oliver would mutter to himself whenever he glimpsed the slightest hints of Felix's protective or controlling demeanor, not just towards you but anyone. Dismissing the notion, he decided to join both of you for breakfast, putting on a smile as he noticed the exclusive trio occupying the mansion today. “Where is everyone?” Oliver was the first to inquire, scanning the surroundings, even the garden, to find no one but the three of you. The idea began to dawn on you that this could be the perfect setting for something a bit more adventurous, something spicy involving all three. Innocently shrugging, you played along, and Felix couldn't help but laugh at your little game. “Haven't seen them, probably still in their beds, completely oblivious from last night's revelry. Wouldn't be surprised. What a shame to miss a beautiful breakfast with such lovely companions.”

What a shame, indeed, thought Oliver, his gaze penetrating yours as he found himself momentarily lost, only to be brought back by the server serving him a cup of coffee. He awkwardly thanked the server, prompting laughter from both Felix and you at his clumsiness. “You know,” Felix began, his confidence evident, especially when it came to matters of relationships and involving others. “Y/N and I have been... intrigued by you, you know? Perhaps attracted to how quickly you became part of our group. But a little bird told me that she's really drawn to you. Maybe if she had the courage to tell you instead of resorting to these daunting tasks.” Felix said casually, causing you to gasp in response to his unexpected comment. Despite your initial shock, you quickly realized he meant no harm or shame. In fact, Felix wanted Oliver to express his feelings – emotions that could harmonize with yours and eventually be shared behind closed doors.

"Do I happen to know this little bird?" Oliver quipped, his gaze shifting between the two of you with a hint of surprise. Even though he already knew who Felix was referring to, Oliver decided to play along, much to Felix's delight, as he too wanted to please his friend. Felix nodded in acknowledgment. “Certainly, and if I may say so myself, she has a penchant for the nerdy type. However, she seems to be enjoying this new side of him much more recently.” Felix admitted openly, his arm remaining securely around your waist. He was well aware of the complexities of a polyamorous relationship, but if it meant your happiness and the joy of seeing you smile, it was all he could do. Plus, it certainly added to Oliver's amusement in seeing a different facet of Felix.

"Keep it discreet." You whispered to Felix, who, in response, leaned in so uncomfortably close that your words seemed almost ignored. This added an enticing and thrilling dynamic to your relationship. At that precise moment, Felix rose from his chair and planted a tender kiss on your forehead. “Behave now. For me– and for Ollie.” He advised, leaving you feeling utterly defenseless in the hands of someone who had evolved into an obsession similar to the initial intensity when you both first met. Your pout, intended as a defense mechanism, only seemed to amuse Felix, prompting him to gently cup your face. He teasingly bit at your lower lip, evoking a soft whine before he kissed you. “If anything happens, call me, okay? I won't be far away.” He assured you with a softer and more passionate tone, shifting his gaze from yours to acknowledge Oliver with a nod. Ultimately, Felix's interactions with Venetia were not entirely unfamiliar to Oliver, especially when it meant being alone with the most captivating woman in all of Saltbun.

Oliver had carefully chosen his outfit for the occasion, opting for a stylish blue t-shirt that complemented his complexion. In an attempt to break the ice between you two, you remarked it so lively starting with the missing glasses. “I see someone ditched their glasses.” Noting his uneasy glances from side to side, as if hiding something. However, upon hearing your voice, his gaze softened, and he offered a gentle smile, reminiscent of the one he gave Felix when they first met. “Glasses are so last season anyway. Prefer the contact lenses.” He casually remarked, initially giving the impression of a more reserved demeanor than you had originally perceived. This perception lingered, especially during moments when it was just the two of you alone. However, recent events, including spending a night at Farleigh's room and Oliver recounting what he had witnessed, left you uncertain about whom to trust. Consequently, you rose from your chair and approached him. His adorable gasp was the only sound as he watched your sudden movement. “What... are you doing?” he asked, stuttering mid-sentence.

“Nothing…” You casually said to him although it was quite the obvious as you leaned to sat on his lap. His fingers trying his best to mimic Felix’s as you hushed him not to do so but to do it like how he did it to Venetia. Which at first surprised him because he began to think that you knew about it too– but you had said nothing to him since that event. After all– it was a game that Felix and you wanted. Turned out however that it was both Felix and Oliver who wanted you. To be their puppets as the masters take charge to their own demise, sadistic pleasure. Although contracting themselves perfectly, it was one of the many reasons why you had though Oliver to be fascinated in the first place. “Just admiring you.” Was what you said to him next, before continuing as you gently touched the collar of his shirt.

“Make me love like you never have before—a love you've been craving since you arrived here. I know your little game, Ollie. We all do.” You whispered, leaning even closer until your lips grazed his, your hand cupping the side of his jawline. In that moment, you took charge, reversing the dynamics of control. However, the atmosphere shifted abruptly when your final confession made Oliver tense. His muscles stiffened, and his fingers gripped your waist, guiding you onto the table, rendering your body completely at his mercy. Gently crawling on top of you, a cocktail of excitement, lust, and a desire to submit to him filled the air. “Then..” He said softly, lifting your lacy gown casually and placing a few kisses before continuing. “I'll make sure you don't have to remember it, Princess. I’ll fuck you until your screams for more are heard at an even distance.” His eyes barely left you as your head leaned back, moans escaping your lips. However, before you could fully respond, Oliver's gaze intensified with each kiss, and he uttered. “I want you to say my name, just like you do for Felix's. Say that you are mine and mine alone.”

“Yes, I'll do anything you ask.” You affirmed. Your eyes pleaded, craving to be cherished and made to feel like a loved woman once more. It wasn't that Felix wasn't providing that, but the allure of someone unknown, a complete stranger, added an extra layer of excitement. “Make love to me as if you've never experienced anyone before. Have me begging for you until the break of dawn. I want your marks all over me, Ollie.” You confessed. With those words, Oliver eagerly removed his shirt, hunger evident in his desire to kiss every inch of your skin. Starting from your inner thighs, you couldn't help but release a soft giggle as you felt his tongue slowly traveling down.

However, there was one crucial detail both of you remained oblivious to – Felix had meticulously orchestrated this entire scenario, intending it to unfold as an exclusive spectacle for himself. His curiosity lay in observing Oliver's actions when left alone with all of you. Yet, the setup lacked a crucial element: Felix himself. Mere miles away, Felix sensed a tightening sensation in his groin beneath his pants. His fingers delicately caressed the sensation, attempting not to draw attention to himself. Seizing the opportune moment, he approached quietly as your back remained turned, your arms securely wrapped around Oliver's neck. As he neared, Felix gently untangled your shoulders, skillfully removing every piece of clothing he could manage before eliciting a surprised gasp from you. “Fe—”But Oliver's lips silenced you, a deliberate move to divert attention. Even though Oliver feigned ignorance of Felix's game, he too realized it was just a matter of finally being alone together – a scenario briefly alluded to by Felix before arriving in Saltburn. “Shh, Princess. Remember, he’s all yours.” Had Felix said upon continuing to admire your fully undressed body.

In that moment, you realized you belonged entirely to both Oliver and Felix. They came as a combined package, a connection deeper and more intricate than anyone in Saltburn could fathom. Following the encounter at the pool, the three of you continued these clandestine rendezvous. Sometimes it was Oliver gazing into the distance, and other times, it was Felix. Yet, a constant remained – whenever you were out, they were with you. Over time, Oliver acknowledged, opening up to himself, that he truly felt at home, especially when you nestled yourself in a lacy gown between both of them, indulging in endless kisses until sleep embraced you all. This routine became a comforting ritual, repeated again and again.

#felix catton x reader #reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagie #oliver quick imagine #felix catto x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x you #saltburn imagines #farleigh x reader #venetia catton #jacob elordi #barry keoghan

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wolfiesmoon · 5 months

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The aquamarine umbrella

duke!neuvillette x dutchess!reader

i have been consuming too much manhwa and too much neuvillette brainrot so this farted out my brain in approximately 4 hours (i know)

also it just so happens to be my first time whipping out my poetic writing side so that means it was written in my native language and then translated into eng because english vocab is scary ( T﹏T )

also you won't guess.... genshin debut!!! 😘😘😘😘😘

What happens when fate doesn't favour you? When you have to leave the place you once called home because of things beyond your authority?

You are sent to an unknown land in a decorated carriage and into the arms not of a Lord mysterious to all. Well, he is not a complete stranger to you, but the name 'Neuvillette' is not quite a sufficient description of his personality.

The closer you get to his estate, the more you realise your helplessness. As the daughter of an unfavoured duke in your country, you have been chosen for this unfortunate marriage. When father called you into his office, you did not expect his grim face. Or the news that you were to recieve on that fateful day.

So, fate decided to marry you to the heartless dragon of the waters, Neuvillette. Neuvillette is a bit... mysterious among the upper class. You only hear horrible but unconfirmed stories about him. But if there are so many, there's a good chance that at least one of them is true. He didn't even show up at the wedding ceremony, so you can only imagine his appearance.

Neither fierce anger nor the shedding of tears has solved your situation. It's not fair that you can just be sold around like property if you're a woman. But you also know that the King would have you executed if you opposed him. Maybe that would even be better.

You can just clutch the big, heavy bracelet around your neck, made of beautiful sparkling diamonds, and hope that the sky above you is full of stars for a few more years. That you will feel the satin covers under you when you wake up, that you will see the sunset every night.

These little things that you used to take for granted now threaten you with an eternal goodbye.

You should smile right now. Smile and look out of the beautifully decorated window of your carriage and wave at the people of his estate who wave back cheerfully in your direction.

His people do not look miserable. The houses are beautifully built and the smiles on the children's faces bring tears of happiness to your eyes. At least that can comfort you.

There are also small creatures waving at you which remind you of deer. You have never seen anything like them before in your life. You have only seen dead deer after a successful hunting trip from brother. You have always felt a little sorry for them.

They were probably happy in nature, surrounded by clear water, lush trees and the soothing chirping of birds. And in one moment, it all ends.

Perhaps now you understand how a deer feels.

Before you can think too much about the deer-like girls, the coachman is holding out his hand for you to get out of the carriage.

Fate has brought you in front of his castle. From inside, you can hear the soothing sound of water. How familiar.

With every step, the click of your heels can be heard echoing through the great hall. The maids bow to you, standing in a row. The interior of the castle is beautiful. You feel as if you are a small pebble in a bubbling brook, and everything around you sparkles.

Suddenly you hear your own name echoing around the hall. You look up and see him for the first time.

And oh, what a sight he is.

Eyes that sparkle like polished lapis lazuli jewels. Long white hair that looks like pristine silk. A hardened, blank face that holds no forgiveness. Is this what a dragon is supposed to look like?

You bow to him quickly. If you really don't want to become like a deer, it's better to be polite and obedient. Obedience is something that is implanted in you as a young duchess. It is all you've ever known. Quite unfortunate, is it not?

"Welcome to my estate. You probably know me already, but I politely ask you to refer to me by my surname. Since exactly one month ago, we are husband and wife by law. I hope you had a safe journey here." He greeted you formally. You also realised that he called you by your father's surname. Since you are his wife, you are now a Neuvillette. How odd.

It takes you a few seconds to collect yourself and answer him. "It is nice to be here."

The answer is quite modest, just as is expected from someone like you.

"Please take her to her room. I can't assure you that I'll always be here if concerns arise, but if you have any at all, you may consult me about it. I hope you sleep soundly tonight."

And so he disappeared down the beautiful blue corridor, leaving you with only the maids who, at his command, showed you the way to your chambers.

Your bed chamber is also a beautiful blue colour. He seems to have a liking for the color blue.

The sky is already turning red, dusk is approaching and with it your first night in your new home. Tonight you can see the sunset. The maids leave you alone, and you immediately lean against the window. Even though you can't see them yet, you are already asking the stars to forgive you. That you will never take anything for granted, as long as they shine. Then everything will be all right.

"How do you feel? I hope the food is to your tastes." Your husband suddenly speaks. He is sitting across the large dining table, but dishes are only placed on your side.

"Everything is fine." You hesitate for a few seconds, wondering if you should bring up your concern. "...B-But, why aren't you eating anything?" you quickly grab a decorated glass and take a big sip of water to fill the awkwardness.

"Human food mostly doesn't interest me, unless it has a large percentage of water. Simple water is more suited to my tastes." His answer is simple, but it doesn't surprise you. He is the hydro dragon, after all. Although you keep forgetting that, because he looks about the same as a human.

"Ah, so... Can.... can you tell me a little about yourself?" you hope you don't sound traitorous or as if you suspect him. So far he's been nothing but polite to you. But what do you know... it's always good to be sure.

"You look like you're guilty of something. I know that look well."

Before you have time to answer, he's already talking. Thank God.

"I don't know what exactly about me you're interested in. But I assume you already know some things about me. For purely impersonal reasons, I can already tell you that in all probability we will never know each other well." These words glue your eyes to his. You don't know exactly what it is, but there is an emotion behind them that is unknown to you. One that makes your chest feel tight.

"I am my land's ludex, not just its ruler. The chief of justice, if you will. I create and oversee laws and hold trials for the accused. I do not doubt you, believe me. But it is best if we keep a distance in between us. Impartiality is the primary virtue of a judge." He explained, eyes closed.

You don't know exactly why, but his words make your heart ache. You don't even know him, and he hasn't cruelly rejected you, but as a little girl you always read fairy tales about love, where a boy and a girl love each other for all eternity. No, since when are you so selfish?! Be happy that he doesn't beat you.

A sad reality many noblewomen in arranged marriages face.

"Ah, I see."

The rest of breakfast was spent in a kind of suffocating silence. You didn't know where to look. Perhaps this accident is suited to you, because nothing comes from nothing.

"It's raining today." The maid gently reminds you as she puts a necklace around your neck. You've never been particularly happy about rainy days, especially because of mother. She always made you wear brightly coloured dresses and would get yell at you late into the evening if you came inside with mud on the bottom of your dress.

And she didn't like it if you got wet, either. To you, rain is an inconvenience that occurs every now and then. Since you came here, you rarely get to see your husband. But his beautiful long hair reminds you of the white silk covers on your bed, and his blue eyes remind you of the diamond in your ring. That much hasn't changed.

You have a tradition of walking through the town every day and greeting people. Your parents made you stop doing this when you were a little girl, because "it is outrageous for the duchy to talk to the townspeople and peasants."

But now that you are Lady Neuvillette, that is no longer the case. You haven't had a chance to ask Neuvillette if you have permission to do so, but so far he hasn't said anything, so you think he doesn't mind.

You are very glad that he is a good man.

You have also made friends with the deer-like creatures, or rather the Melusines. You met one while on a walk and she seemed delighted to see you. After a while, the Melusines showed you their artwork and their cuisine. You thought it was strange, but you were happy to see your new friend's culture nonetheless.

Sometimes they tell you that they notice you immediately when you go out for a walk.

And today is no different. Even if it's a rainy day, the walk has become important for you, for the Melusines and for the people of his estate. The children who sometimes bring you freshly picked flowers make your heart swell.

The maids hand you an aquamarine umbrella, decorated with lace, in your hands at the entrance. It will do nicely.

You wave to the local children on your walk, say hello to the Melusines you meet on the way, and decide to visit a small waterfall in the area before returning. It's not the sunniest of days, but it's still a day to experience. And long ago, you promised the stars that you would look forward to every day.

But you notice something interesting by the waterfall. The closer and closer you get, the clearer this thing becomes. It's not a thing, it's your husband!

He's standing in the rain without an umbrella with a peaceful expression on his face. It is as if he is relieved of all pain. You are tempted to go to him and at the same time you want to leave him alone. You stand in the rain for a few seconds, but finally hear your heart calling you to him.

He notices you and greets you calmly. You stand next to him and watch the water bounce down the little river that flows under the waterfall.

"I'm sorry I don't come to see you as much as I would like. As my wife, you are my responsibility." As soon as he says it, you start defending him. You know how busy leading a fief can leave you. You've already got used to your new life, so there's really no need for him to worry.

"The Melusines tell me a lot about you."

"Really?!" You knew that the Melusines liked Neuvillette, but you didn't know that they also shared things about you to him.

"Really. Thank you for being so kind to them. Melusines are... important to me." His smile made you a little jealous. It's nothing, he knows Melusines better than you anyways. And the agreement still stands.

"You really like the rain, don't you?" you commented, looking at his peaceful face once again.

"Yes, really. The rain is beautiful." His eyes meet yours, and behind them there is undoubtedly a gleam of joy. And it stirs something new in you. You are not a deer. At least not here.

You don't know why, but suddenly you're holding his hand instead of your aquamarine umbrella and you're getting soaked by the rain.

He looks at you with surprise on his face, as if he never expected this to happen.

"Does it bother you?" you ask him, worried he doesn't like it.

"Not really. Feel free to hold my hand whenever you wish. You are my wife."

A comfortable silence fills the air, with only the sounds of the waterfall and the rain to accompany your thoughts.

What's a young lady to do with her heart if fate decides that she should fall in love with her distant husband?

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