#and the games not having the ending of Lady of the Lake just ignores and spits in theface of everything the books were trying to show | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bamf-jaskier · 3 years

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Okay so I’m going to try and do a comparison of some of the major scenes between Geralt and Yennefer in Bottled Appetites vs The Last Wish.

Warning: this is a very long post and I tried to keep it as short as possible but Geralt and Yennefer is the relationship that is mainly focused on in both the short story and the show so there’s..a lot of content here.

Now, before I really jump in it’s important to note that the show is basically the spark notes version of the book, there’s a lot of missing content in the show mostly because the book just has so much more complexity so for a brief timeline:

Jaskier is injured

Talks to Chireadan

Meets Yennefer

Take Bath Together

Yennefer mind-controls Geralt and send him off to go fight some council members

THEN this is where the show and book differ

In the books, Yennefer’s mind-control has more obvious consequences and Geralt gets into legal trouble and there’s a whole scene with some town leaders threatening Geralt and Jaskier. (Although it is important to note Yennefer in the books has a back-up plan to save Geralt)

As well when Geralt goes to stop Yennefer in the books from capturing the Djinn she portals away with Geralt and they hate-crash a Noble’s party before having a conversation and fighting the Djinn again, Geralt makes his third wish and then they have sex

So basically the townspeople sub-plot is removed in the show and the Djinn fight is streamlined into one-scene instead of multiple. Now understanding that, let’s get into the scene comparisons.

Geralt Meeting Yennefer:

The Last Wish:

“You parried my spell,” she finally said. “You're not a sorcerer; that's obvious. But you reacted exceptionally fast. Tell me who you are, stranger who has come in peace. And I advise you to speak quickly.”

“I’m Geralt of Rivia. A witcher.”

Yennefer leaned out of the bed, grasping a faun—engraved on the pole—by a piece of anatomy well adapted to being grasped. Without taking her eyes off Geralt, she picked a coat with a fur collar up off the floor and wrapped herself up in it tightly before getting up. She poured herself another mug of juice without hurrying, drank it in one go, coughed and came closer. Geralt discreetly rubbed his lower back which, a moment ago, had collided painfully with the wall.

“Geralt of Rivia,” repeated the sorceress, looking at him from behind black lashes. “How did you get in here? And for what reason? You didn't hurt Berrant, I hope?”

“No. I didn't. Lady Yennefer, I need your help.”

“A witcher,” she muttered, coming up even closer and wrapping the coat around her more tightly. “Not only is it the first one I’ve seen up close but it's none other than the famous White Wolf. I’ve heard about you.”

“I can imagine.”

“I don't know what you can imagine.”

She yawned, then came even closer. “May I?” She touched his cheek and looked him in the eyes. He clenched his jaw. “Do your pupils automatically adapt to light or can you narrow and dilate them according to your will?”

“Yennefer,” he said calmly, “I rode nonstop all day from Rinde. I waited all night for the gates to open. I gave your doorman, who didn't want to let me in, a blow to the head. I disturbed your sleep and peace, discourteously and importunately. All because my friend needs help which only you can give him. Give it to him, please, and then, if you like, we can talk about mutations and aberrations.”

She took a step back and contorted her lips unpleasantly. “What sort of help do you mean?”

“The regeneration of organs injured through magic. The throat, larynx and vocal cords. An injury caused by a scarlet mist. Or something very much like it.”

The Show:

Yennefer: And quite a bit more. You’re immune.

Geralt: You must be the mage.

Yennefer: Yennefer of Vengerberg.

Geralt: Hm. Chireadan didn’t mention that, uh…

Yennefer: What did he fail to mention?

Geralt: We need your help.

Yennefer: “We”? [Geralt looks to Jaskier who gives a feeble wave.] Just a friend, I hope? [Geralt looks back at her.] Your heartbeat, it’s extraordinarily slow. You’re… a mutant.

Geralt: A witcher. Geralt of Rivia.

Yennefer: The famous White Wolf! [Standing up she steps close to Geralt.] I thought you’d have fangs or horns or something.

Geralt: I had them filed down.

Yennefer: [chuckles] First time I’ve seen a witcher up close. [She circles him, looks him over.] What little spells can you cast with your hands? Call it professional curiosity.

Geralt: Please, Jaskier here needs immediate attention. And then, if you’d like, I’ll indulge your curiosity all night long.

Yennefer: It won’t take all night. But I’m sure we can find a way to fill the time.

Geralt: [holding up the small sack with the pot’s shards] He was attacked by a djinn.

Yennefer: A djinn?

Geralt: Whatever’s wrong with him, it’s spreading. [Yennefer takes the sack and inspects the contents.] Fix it and I’ll pay you. Whatever the price.

Yennefer: You’ll have to do better than juice. [to the undulating figures] "Ragamuffin"!

In the books there is no orgy sequence, instead Yennefer has been mainly just been fucking with the merchant Beau Berrant, who in the show is the Mayor of Rinde. The apple juice sequence occurs in both adaptations and Geralt goes to Yennefer. In the books, Yennefer is alone in Berrant’s bedchambers, in the show she is in the orgy sequence. If you read the passages, they share the same bare bones. Yennefer tries to bespell Geralt, he is immune, she comments on his mutation, Geralt asks for help.

Yennefer and Geralt have the same flirtatious overtones in both adaptations. Honestly I don’t have much to say here because it parallels relatively well as far as characterization goes. I will say I prefer the book’s prose but I also understand that the show has more simplistic writing and wording.

Anya Chalotra has fantastic energy in playing Yennefer and the tension between the actors in this scene are quite apparent.

Bathing Together:

The Last Wish:

She entered the bath-chamber just as Geralt, sitting naked on a tiny stool, was pouring water over himself from a bucket. He cleared his throat and modestly turned his back to her.

“Don't be embarrassed,” she said, throwing an armful of clothing on the hook. “I don't faint at the sight of a naked man. Triss Merigold, a friend, says if you've seen one, you've seen them all.”

He got up, wrapping a towel round his hips.

“Beautiful scar.” She smiled, looking at his chest. “What was it? Did you fall under the blade in a sawmill?”

He didn't answer. The sorceress continued to observe him, tilting her head coquettishly.

“The first witcher I can look at from close up, and completely naked at that. Aha!” She leaned over, listening. “I can hear your heart beat. It's very slow. Can you control how much adrenalin you secrete? Oh, forgive me my professional curiosity. Apparently, you're touchy about the qualities of your own body. You're wont to describe these qualities using words which I greatly dislike, lapsing into pompous sarcasm with it, something I dislike even more.”

He didn't answer.“Well, enough of that. My bath is getting cold.” Yennefer moved as if she wanted to discard her coat, then hesitated. “I’ll take my bath while you talk, to save time. But I don't want to embarrass you and, besides, we hardly know each other. So then, taking decency into account—”

“I’ll turn around,” he proposed hesitantly.“No. I have to see the eyes of the person I’m talking to. I’ve got a better idea.”

He heard an incantation being recited, felt his medallion quiver and saw the black coat softly slip to the floor. Then he heard the water splashing.

“Now I can't see your eyes, Yennefer,” he said. “And that's a pity.”

The invisible sorceress snorted and splashed in the tub. “Go on.”

The Show:

[Later, in the bathroom, Geralt takes a bath while Yennefer keeps him company]

Yennefer: Fishing for a djinn seems an extreme measure to remedy sleeplessness.

Geralt: When extreme measures seem reasonable, yes, I’m desperate.

Yennefer: And yet you didn’t ask me to help with that.

Geralt: Looming death kind of jumped the queue. Now I’m wondering if I can afford you. Have I accidentally agreed to indentured servitude? [Yennefer notices his scars.] Go ahead, ask about them. Everyone does.

Yennefer: Everyone else is boring. [She undresses and steps into the tub.] Turn around.

Geralt: [Tries to look at her in a mirror, but Yennefer moves it with magic so he can’t see] That’s cheating.

Yennefer: Nobody smart plays fair. Tell me, are all witchers similarly blessed? [She sits down so they’re back to back.] Come now, you promised.

Geralt: Hm. I haven’t conducted a survey, but I’d hardly say we’re blessed.

Okay!! Now I can get more into the characterization differences because oh boy are there some here. First, Yennefer mentions Triss in the books which I would have loved to see in the show but the main thing here is how they objectify each other. In both adaptations, Yennefer notices Geralt’s scars when they begin to bathe together but in the books, Yennefer uses it as a way to pry more into the biological functions of Witchers whereas in the show she uses it as a way to talk about their shitty childhoods.

This ties into how the show, instead of focusing on the more biological aspects of Witchers, focuses on the tragic backstory of the characters. Of course, Lauren is of the mindset (like much of fandom) that Witchers are more animalistic while Sapko really pushes the idea that Witchers are creations of science so it makes sense the show wouldn’t want to talk about Witcher science as much.

As well, in the books, Geralt is rather respectful to Yennefer, promising to avert his gaze and she ends up turning invisible so she can objectify him but he can’t objectify her. It places Yennefer in charge and the obviously more powerful force in the room.

In the show, Geralt tries to take a peak at Yennefer and they sit back to back, establishing them as equals. And this is no mistake. In the books, Yennefer is quite a bit older than Geralt, she is powerful mage and Geralt is just a guy. Yennefer is the one in power in their relationship and that is obvious in every aspect of their relationship.

The show made Geralt 32 years older than Yennefer. They push a narrative of Yennefer and Geralt being on more equal footing (or even at times go as far as to make Geralt seem the more mature and older one which we will see later with Yennefer not being aware of the Wish).

This reverses a lot of the show/book dynamic where instead of Yennefer being the dominant one she is on equal footing with Geralt. Of course, this is likely due to Henry Cavill being around 37 and Anya Chalotra being around 23. Hollywood is allergic to the older woman/younger man dynamic that is seen in the books so making Yennefer seem younger is not a problem specific to The Witcher but with Hollywood at large. (Not to say it isn’t still bad to see this perpetuated in the show because it is)

Yennefer mind-controlling Geralt:

The Last Wish:

“He's asleep,” said Yennefer. “And dreaming.”

Geralt examined the patterns traced on the floor. The magic hidden within them was palpable, but he knew it was a dormant magic. It brought to mind the purr of a sleeping lion, without suggesting how the roar might sound.

“What is this, Yennefer?”

“A trap.”

“For what?”

“For you, for the time being.” The sorceress turned the key in the lock, then turned it over in her hand. The key disappeared.

“And thus I’m trapped,” he said coldly. “What now? Are you going to assault my virtue?”

“Don't flatter yourself.” Yennefer sat on the edge of the bed. Dandilion, still smiling like a moron, groaned quietly. It was, without a doubt, a groan of bliss.

“I already knew what you were like,” she continued, “after exchanging a few words with you in Beau's bedroom. And I knew what form of payment I’d demand from you. My accounts in Rinde could be settled by anyone, including Chireadan. But you're the one who's going to do it because you have to pay me. For your insolence, for the cold way you look at me, for the eyes which fish for every detail, for your stony face and sarcastic tone of voice. For thinking that you could stand face-to-face with Yennefer of Vergerberg and believe her to be full of self-admiration and arrogance, a calculating witch, while staring at her soapy tits. Pay up, Geralt of Rivia!”

She grabbed his hair with both hands and kissed him violently on the lips, sinking her teeth into them like a vampire. The medallion on his neck quivered and it felt to Geralt as if the chain was shrinking and strangling him. Something blazed in his head while a terrible humming filled his ears. He stopped seeing the sorceress's violet eyes and fell into darkness.He was kneeling. Yennefer was talking to him in a gentle, soft voice.“You remember?”

“Yes, my lady.” It was his own voice.

“So go and carry out my instructions.”

“At your command, my lady.”

“You may kiss my hand.”

“Thank you, my lady.”He felt himself approach her on his knees.

Ten thousand bees buzzed in his head. Her hand smelt of lilac and gooseberries. Lilac and gooseberries…Lilac and gooseberries…A flash. Darkness.

The Show:

Yennefer: If you wake him before he’s healed, the spell won’t take. That’s no way to treat a friend, Geralt.

Geralt: You want the djinn, but the amphora’s broken. The djinn’s already long gone. [Suddenly the candles around the sign flare up.]

Yennefer: [rubbing perfume onto her wrists] Do go on. Tell me how stuff works. The djinn is tied to this plane and its master. How many wishes did the bard express before he lost his voice?

Geralt: You need Jaskier to make his last wish so you can capture it.

Yennefer: So that’s… two then.

Geralt: The djinn will fight you. If you try and bend it- [He breaks off, clears his throat then inhales.] Ah… That scent… Lilac and…

Yennefer: Gooseberries. [Geralt exhales sharply.] Tough to get in your head. You have a strong will, but you can’t contend with me. Sorry I couldn’t be direct, I knew you’d fight it. [She leans up to kiss him, bites on his bottom lip until it bleeds.] And I do love a good old-fashioned trap.

Geralt: [slurring] A good old-fashioned… nap. [His eyes flutter shut.]

I mentioned how the show is a spark notes? Well, in the books Yennefer finds out through interrogating Geralt in the bath how many wishes are left. As well, in the books Yennefer is much more physically violent, again asserting the idea that she is the dominant one in the relationship and that she is in charge.

Honestly, the show softens Yennefer quite a bit in this scene. While she does bite his lip, it’s slowly and not particularly violent. In the books, she is compared to a vampire, grabbing his hair, pulling him down.

It all ties into the softer, younger version of Yennefer we see in the show vs the books. She is not as aggressive in the show and also not as dominant. Again, this could be due to the actor’s age difference but I also think it ties into Hollywood’s avoidance of placing women in a position that is above a male character. (Especially with Henry Cavill as Geralt, he would be unlikely to play a more subservient role to a woman purposefully considering some of his past statements about Me Too). However, having Yennefer as less aggressive also might make her more relatable to the audience and have her be more likable. At least, that could be what the writers were going for but I’m not psychic and I couldn’t tell you for sure.

Geralt trying to save Yennefer from the Djinn:

The Last Wish:

“Yennefer saw him, jumped up and raised her hand.

“No!” he shouted, “don't do this! I want to help you!”

“Help?” She snorted. “You?”

“Me.”

“In spite of what I did to you?”

“In spite of it.”

“Interesting. But not important. I don't need your help. Get out of here.”

“No.”

“Get out of here!” she yelled, grimacing ominously. “It's getting dangerous! The whole thing's getting out of control; do you understand? I can't master him. I don't get it, but the scoundrel isn't weakening at all! I caught him once he'd fulfilled the troubadour's third wish and I should have him in the sphere by now. But he's not getting any weaker! Dammit, it looks as if he's getting stronger! But I’m still going to get the better of him. I’ll break—”

“You won't break him, Yennefer. He'll kill you.”

“It's not so easy to kill me—”

She broke off. The whole roof of the tavern suddenly flared up. The vision projected by the sphere dissolved in the brightness. A huge fiery rectangle appeared on the ceiling. The sorceress cursed as she lifted her hands, and sparks gushed from her fingers.

“Run, Geralt!”

“What's happening, Yennefer?”

“He's located me…” She groaned, flushing red with effort. “He wants to get at me. He's creating his own portal to get in. He can't break loose but he'll get in by the portal. I can't—I can't stop him!”

“Yennefer—”

“Don't distract me! I’ve got to concentrate…Geralt, you've got to get out of here. I’ll open my portal, a way for you to escape. Be careful; it'll be a random portal. I haven't got time or strength for any other…I don't know where you'll end up…but you'll be safe…Get ready—.”

... (description paragraph skip)

“This way!” shouted Yennefer, indicating the portal which she had conjured up oh the wall by the stairs. In comparison to the one created by the genie, the sorceress's portal looked feeble, extremely inferior. “This way, Geralt! Run for it!”

“Only with you!”

Yennefer, sweeping the air with her hands, was shouting incantations and the many-colored fetters showered sparks and creaked. The djinn whirled like the bumble-bee, pulling the bonds tight, then loosening them. Slowly but surely he was drawing closer to the sorceress. Yennefer did not back away.

The witcher leapt to her, deftly tripped her up, grabbed her by the waist with one hand and dug the other into her hair at the nape. Yennefer cursed nastily and thumped him in the neck with her elbow. He didn't let go of her. The penetrating smell of ozone, created by the curses, didn't kill the smell of lilac and gooseberries. Geralt stilled the sorceress's kicking legs and jumped, raising her straight up to the opalescently flickering nothingness of the lesser portal.

The Show:

[In the bedroom]

Yennefer: [still chanting in Elder]

Geralt: [as he enters, Yennefer lifts a hand in his direction.] Don’t! I’m here to help you.

Yennefer: [lowers her hand] I don’t need your help. You’re free. No longer under my spell.

Geralt: And yet here I am.

Yennefer: You seem to want to meet your end.

Geralt: As do you.

Yennefer: [groans] The djinn isn’t weakening. The bard expressed his last wish, but it’s- [screams] it’s getting stronger! Go!

Geralt: That’s because I’m the one with the wishes.

Yennefer: You? You’re the djinn’s master?

Geralt: Yeah.

Yennefer: Well, what are you waiting for? [She screams as her bones crack.] Make your wishes!

Geralt: Becoming the vessel for the djinn will have you lose control, not gain it! Can’t you see what this is doing to you?

Yennefer: True transformation is painful.

Geralt: Release the djinn! I’ll give you my last wish!

Yennefer: You heroic protector… noble dog, permitting my success so long as you command it yourself. Fuck off! I’ll do this myself!

Geralt: Damn it, Yennefer! Tell me what you want!

Yennefer: I want everything!

[In the bedroom, Yennefer’s eyes have gone red, her voice distorted]

Djinn: [speaking through Yennefer] Make your wish! You can have anything you want! You could choose not to be a witcher. What do you desire? Immortality? Riches? Fame? Power?

Geralt: I wish… [The rest of his words are drowned out by the wind. Yennefer falls forward and the wind calms down. Geralt pulls up his sleeve to reveal the third cut.]

Yennefer: The djinn… Wh- Where did it go? [The house groans and creaks, and the two look to the ceiling as it crashes down.]

Yennefer still craves power and wants for everything in the show. In the books, she is more established and wants to try and control the Djinn. This is why when Geralt comes back for Yennefer, both versions express surprise at why Geralt would come back to help after they cast a spell on him but Netflix!Yennefer tells Geralt to fuck off on the basis she doesn’t want a man controlling her life (tying into the Strong Female Character Trope) while Book!Yennefer wants Geralt out of danger first and foremost.

Of course, much of this in the show is likely a response to try and subvert the “damsel in distress” stereotype and while the books have Yennefer as the dominant one and in control, showing that she in not in distress, the show has her explicitly point this out because she is not established as the dominant one as much as in the books.

The show constantly is more overt with its themes that the books which are far more subtle.

Yennefer is mad at Geralt and then they have sex:

The Last Wish (Warning this is rather long and I even tried to shorten it without removing content!!):

“You moron!” Yennefer yelled, trying to scratch out his eyes. “You bloody idiot! You stopped me! I nearly had him!”

“You had shit-all!” he shouted back, furious. “I saved your life, you stupid witch!”

She hissed like a furious cat; her palms showered sparks.

Geralt, turning his face away, caught her by both wrists and they rolled among the oysters, seaweed and crushed ice.

“Do you have an invitation?” A portly man with the golden chain of a chamberlain on his chest was looking at them with a haughty expression.

“Screw yourself!” screamed Yennefer, still trying to scratch Geralt's eyes out.

“The wish, Geralt! Hurry up! What do you desire? Immortality? Riches? Fame? Power? Might? Privileges? Hurry, we haven't any time!” He was silent

“Humanity,” she said suddenly, smiling nastily. “I’ve guessed, haven't I? That's what you want; that's what you dream of! Of release, of the freedom to be who you want, not who you have to be. The djinn will fulfill that wish, Geralt. Just say it.”

He stayed silent.

She stood over him in the flickering radiance of the wizard's sphere, in the glow of magic, amidst the flashes of rays restraining the djinn, streaming hair and eyes blazing violet, erect, slender, dark, terrible…

And beautiful.

All of a sudden she leaned over and looked him in the eyes. He caught the scent of lilac and gooseberries.

“You're not saying anything,” she hissed. “So what is it you desire, witcher? What is your most hidden dream? Is it that you don't know or you can't decide? Look for it within yourself, look deeply and carefully because, I swear by the Force, you won't get another chance like this!”

But he suddenly knew the truth. He knew it. He knew what she used to be. What she remembered, what she couldn't forget, what she lived with. Who she really was before she had become a sorceress.

Her cold, penetrating, angry and wise eyes were those of a hunchback. He was horrified. No, not of the truth. He was horrified that she would read his thoughts, find out what he had guessed. That she would never forgive him for it. He deadened that thought within himself, killed it, threw it from his memory forever, without trace, feeling, as he did so, enormous relief. Feeling that—

The ceiling cracked open. The djinn, entangled in the net of the now fading rays, tumbled right on top of them, roaring, and in that roar were triumph and murder lust. Yennefer leapt to meet him. Light beamed from her hands. Very feeble light.

The djinn opened his mouth and stretched his paws toward her.

The witcher suddenly understood what it was he wanted.

And he made his wish.

... (time skip)

Yennefer, slightly flushed, knelt by him, resting her hands on her knees.

“Witcher.” She cleared her throat. “Are you dead?”

“No.” Geralt wiped the dust from his face and hissed.

Slowly, Yennefer touched his wrist and delicately ran her fingers along his palm. “I burnt you—”

“It's nothing. A few blisters—”

“I’m sorry. You know, the djinn's escaped. For good.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Not much.”

“Good. Help me up, please.”

“Wait,” she whispered. “That wish of yours…I heard what you wished for. I was astounded, simply astounded. I’d have expected anything but to…What made you do it, Geralt? Why…Why me?”

“Don't you know?”

She leaned over him, touched him. He felt her hair, smelling of lilac and gooseberries, brush his face and he suddenly knew that he'd never forget that scent, that soft touch, knew that he'd never be able to compare it to any other scent or touch. Yennefer kissed him and he understood that he'd never desire any lips other than hers, so soft and moist, sweet with lipstick. He knew that, from that moment, only she would exist, her neck, shoulders and breasts freed from her black dress, her delicate, cool skin, which couldn't be compared to any other he had ever touched. He gazed into her violet eyes, the most beautiful eyes in the world, eyes which he feared would become…

Everything. He knew.

“Your wish,” she whispered, her lips very near his ear. “I don't know whether such a wish can ever be fulfilled. I don't know whether there's such a Force in Nature that could fulfill such a wish. But if there is, then you've condemned yourself. Condemned yourself to me.”

He interrupted her with a kiss, an embrace, a touch, caresses and then with everything, his whole being, his every thought, his only thought, everything, everything, everything. They broke the silence with sighs and the rustle of clothing strewn on the floor.

They broke the silence very gently, lazily, and they were considerate and very thorough. They were caring and tender and, although neither quite knew what caring and tenderness were, they succeeded because they very much wanted to. And they were in no hurry whatsoever. The whole world had ceased to exist for a brief moment, but to them, it seemed like a whole eternity.

And then the world started to exist again; but it existed very differently.

“Geralt?”

“Mmm?”

“What now?”

“I don't know.”

“Nor do I. Because, you see, I…I don't know whether it was worth condemning yourself to me. I don't know how—Wait, what are you doing…? I wanted to tell you—”

“Yennefer…Yen.”

“Yen,” she repeated, giving in to him completely. “Nobody's ever called me that. Say it again.”

“Yen.”

“Geralt.”

The Show:

[Yennefer and Geralt portal into the room inside the manor, where they first met.]

Geralt: Yennefer? [He gets to his knees and shifts the hair of her face.] Yennefer. It’s me… Geralt.

Yennefer: [She opens slowly her eyes, shoves Geralt away and rises.] I know who you are. What did you do? You stopped me, didn’t you? I nearly had it.

Geralt: You had shit all. I saved your life.

Yennefer: And I saved yours! You let the djinn escape. Who knows what havoc it’ll wreak now that it has no vessel at all?

Geralt: No more havoc than you. Djinns are only dark creatures when held captive.

Yennefer: How can you be so sure?

Geralt: When did you last feel happy when you felt trapped? And if you were going to portal us to safety, you could’ve taken us out of this shit town!

Yennefer: A fine critique if you could make a portal yourself. And it wasn’t a shit town, it was a fine town till you came along. I had a plan!

Geralt: [chuckles] And that was going swimmingly!

Yennefer: It was. Like a drowning fish. [They kiss and begin to have sex.]

I tried to keep it short here, but the show combined multiple scenes from the book here. I do love the fact that they kept the shit-all line, it’s a favorite. Of course, many people have likely noticed the HUGE difference between the show and books. In the books, Yennefer knows what the wish is and she’s aware Geralt tied their destinies together.

The show keeps Yennefer in the dark about the wish (likely as a way to manufacture tension on the mountain and have it be dramatic tm) and this just further places her as the not-dominant one in comparison to Geralt. I will also say I love how in the books, Geralt gets a flashback through Yennefer’s past and her trauma. It would have been interesting to see that in the show.

This final scene suffers so much in the show by being so shortened. We don’t see Yennefer and Geralt have a long conversation about the consequences of the wish or what they might do next, they just exchange a few lines about the Djinn which makes the sex scene seem more sudden than in the books.

Of course, I will give props to the actors for the sexual tension they are able to generate in just a few lines as they move closer to each other (granted this tension is ruined as soon as the music starts playing and Jaskier shows up, making the sex scene humorous instead of impactful).

The last lines in the book passage where Yennefer asks Geralt to call her Yen just breaks my damn heart and I would do anything to have seen it in the show. The way the books showcase two very traumatized people finally finding each other is just so lovely and I don’t understand the directing decision to have the tone of the scene switch so quickly in the show from serious and impactful to light. It takes away a lot from the characters.

In the end, the show has Yennefer in a less dominant position in the books and also has her act younger in a sense. This could be due to the actor’s age difference or Hollywood’s allergy to dominant women but despite this, the actors bring a lot of chemistry to the screen (especially in the first meeting/bath scenes).

I would have liked the show to give Yennefer more agency in regards to the wish, especially considering that is her character arc in the show, but I did appreciate how many scenes paralleled each other and I believe at the end of the day, the show was able to preserve enough of Yenralt to make it a believable pairing in the show and I can see them improving the dynamic they have already established throughout the first season in season 2.

#I mean it's sure as fuck better than the bastardization of Yenralt that is the games #shit she isn't even in the first game #and appears in the second one through flashbacks #and also the games imply that the wish changed Yennefer's feelings for Geralt which is NOT TRUE IN THE BOOKS AT ALL #and also just the fact that the games make Geralt the gruff batman type when he is nothing of the sort in the books #and the show plays into so many of these macho-man stereotypes too #and the way the games have Yennefer ENCOURAGE Geralt to take Ciri to Emhyr #just everything about the Empress Ciri ending #and the games not having the ending of Lady of the Lake just ignores and spits in theface of everything the books were trying to show #like the show has its problems but at least there's hope for redemption #the games just has Yennefer and Triss fighting over Geralt for no reason #and the fact that Ciri never calls Yennefer her mother in the games #argh the show better not fuck up Ciri and Yen's relationship #honestly Yennefer in the games never strays beyond her Last Wish characterization and we NEVER see the growth that is seen in the books #which is quite annoying because Yennefer in the Last Wish is still cruel in many ways #she needs to grow and learn #and she does that through raising Ciri #which the games IGNORE #they keep Yennefer as cruel and heartless in many ways #but the whole point of Yennefer is that raising Ciri allowed her to open her heart #of course if Yennefer was kind in the games they couldn't put her against Triss as much #haha if u can't tell I have some...problems with Yen's portrayal in the games...#the witcher #Yennefer #geralt #yenralt #the Witcher netflix #the Witcher books #myposts #meta

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ruthlesslistener · 3 years

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Tbh, I think something that is very important for the Hollow Knight fandom to understand is that love and kindness do not necessarily mean that the person giving them is making the right choice, even if they themselves think otherwise. Just because a character is sympathetic or nice does not mean that they are making the right decision, or that they are incapable of cruelty. There is no good or evil, no black or white morality, but that does not excuse the harm that is done. And perhaps it is an excellent lesson worth learning, for it is often those who are most passionate about their affections that end up causing the most harm trying to protect them.

The Radiance was fighting for her life when she caused the infection. She was scared, and she was angry, and she was betrayed by those that she loved the most, but still she harmed others in her attempt to escape, harmed them cruelly and callously. None of the tribes of Hallownest are to blame for the actions of gods, but they were punished all the same, for crimes that they did not commit. She loved her family, and she hated the cruel creatures that took them from her, so she burned the whole world down so that they might feel the depth of suffering that she experienced.

The White Lady thought that she was making the right decision when she agreed to the vessel plan. She thought that she was doing all that she could to save her kingdom, and gave her all to save the lives of many. But she still let the kingdom fall to ruin around her while she languished in her grief, and watched passively as countless children died. Both she and her husband blessed their followers, but they turned away from the suffering of both them and their children when it became inconvenient or overwhelming to them.

The Pale King loved the Hollow Knight, and grieved the vessels that he lost. He loved them so dearly that he, arrogant god-king that he was, wrote it on tablets by their birthplace and gave them a statue so that they could never be forgotten, though the punishment of being forgotten is the only death that could ever matter to a god such as them. He loved them so deeply that when he cast himself into the dream realm, he dedicated an entire subsection to remembering a peaceful moment he had with them, guarded better than even his own corpse. But that did not stop him from filling the Abyss with the bodies of their siblings. That did not stop him from sealing them away to die a slow, horrible death, or from leaving his last living child an orphan condemned to murder her own siblings. That did not stop him from ignoring what scared him, forcing innocents into burdens they could not carry, and then running away to die a coward's death when the concept of losing everything to him made itself a reality.

Actions speak louder than words. And honestly, in a game where the protagonist has no means to speak, or express themselves in any manner other than how they treat other people, I think the juxtaposition between intent and harm done is something that is significant. The Knight cannot speak, cannot emote, cannot do anything that can easily label them as nice and just, or sad and remorseful. But they treat others with a kindness, even if it's not returned to them. When they find Zote struggling in Deepnest, they still cut him free, because under his grousing and grumbling, he's still a defenseless innocent who has no means of getting out on their own. When they find the Grey Mourner crying in her home, they still take up her arduous request to carry a flower to the grave of her loved one, despite having the ability to deny her. And despite how awkward or awful that quest is, they still gift those delicate flowers to those who seem to be terribly lonely, even if two out of three of the receivers were awfully rude to them in the past. They listen to Hornet when she mourns her mother, and they sit with Quirrel when he contemplates his life on the shores of the Blue Lake, and they kill the sibling they strove to save when they see them suffering, because even if they have been trodden upon and forced into a cruel, unforgiving life, they do not bury their pain with shallow words when it inconveniences them, or force others to suffer for their selfishness.

A person can be nice. A person can be a good ruler, or a sympathetic god, or someone you once thought of as a kindly old lady who'd keep your geo safe for you on a long, dangerous journey, but that doesn't mean jack shit if their actions hurt you in the long run, and it doesn't mean jack fucking shit if they don't make any attempt to heal the harm that they did to you in the past.

#hollow knight #the pale king #the white lady #the radiance #the knight #little ghost #help girl im emotional over little ghost and the abysslings again #hk #and honestly? i think the reason why hk is such a comfort to me is bc the antagonists are all so relatable and 'kind'#All of them had good intentions #all of them are sympathetic #all of them suffered #but they treated their emotions in a way that harmed others reguardless and thats unforgivable #SO MUCH ABUSE IS BORNE OF LOVE #so much hurt happens because people love you and they want you to be safe #but they are too selfish to suffer or grieve or let you go #so they shackle and hurt you instead

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juuuuliee · 3 years

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Broken promises

A/N: so... this is my first story I'm posting, so please don't be so hard on me hahaha... Constructive criticism is of course welcome! I'm working on a masterlist and other stories, so stay tuned if you'd like. I'm sorry if there are some logic and/or grammar mistakes - as I said, this is my first story. I hope you like it, have fun reading! See you soon :)

Pairing:young!Sirius Black x Reader

Genre:a lot of angst, a bit of fluff

Warnings:angst, family problems, relationship problems, jealousy.

Y/N felt bad. Not the kind of bad that makes you want to throw up, more like your stomach was knotting up and that queasy, uncomfortable feeling was getting bigger.

The common room had long been pitch black and only the fire, which was slowly dying away, gave off a small pleasant glow, but it barely reached the sofa where she was curled up.

He had promised. He had promised to be there and yet she had not seen him since lunch in the Great Hall.

Anger and disappointment kept bubbling up inside her, but she tried to ignore those feelings as worry about him grew and slowly took over.

What if something really happened to him?

Before she could think any more about it, she heard a creak and pulled up. The portrait door swung open and the fat lady could be heard cursing behind Sirius, who came stumbling into the common room, but stopped abruptly when he saw his steady girlfriend on the sofa.

"Y/N?" he asked, startled, looking at her with his eyebrows drawn together.

"Damn it, Sirius, where have you been?" she started, realising that the worry was just giving way to the anger that was rising at the sight of him.

"I was at the lake...well...it was someone's birthday from Hufflepuff and I thought...I could go...what did I do wrong, Love?" he told her hesitantly.

"What did you do wrong, Mister? I don't know, everything I think!" Y/N scolded back, theatrically throwing her hands in the air to express her frustration more.

"You said you were coming, Sirius! Hell, YOU even suggested we meet and still said, you’d had a ,,plan’’…I don't know if that was part of your plan, but if it was, I'm sorry, it's a shitty plan! I thought you would have hurt yourself or made it back to Filch's office."

"Y/N, I'm sorry, okay? I forgot, yeah? What do you want me to do? Invent a time reverser just so our ONE date can still happen?!" sneered Sirius, raising his own voice

"The ONE time?! Sirius I don't know if you've been counting, but this is the fourth time in a row you've forgotten or missed it!" now Y/N shouted too, at which Sirius took a step towards her, but she dodged him right back.

,,I know I'm probably overreacting, but I feel like I'm fighting for our relationship all by myself, Sirius. I'm tired of waiting for you all the time, even though I know you won't come and you probably don't even care. It just hurts, okay?" She had started crying completely now and pulled her jumper closer to her.

"Maybe it has something to do with your family problems," he interrupted angrily and raised his hand, which Y/N only looked at defiantly.

"I am who I am and that is how you should accept me, Y/N! I have apologised, what more can I do?!"

Silence.

Grey, angry eyes met e/c, staring at him with anger and disappointment.

,, "Maybe you should change your priorities if some Hufflepuff chick's party is more important than your own girlfriend, Sirius!"

,, "And maybe you should lower your expectations. You're not the most important person to me damn it!"

Ouch. It felt like Sirius had stuck a knife in your back and was very, very slowly turning it around.

"I didn't mean it, Y/N," Sirius said with a roll of his eyes, avoiding Y/N's hurt gaze and focusing more on her shoes.

,, "Yes you did and you know it very well!"

Sirius groaned and you could literally feel the anger bubbling up inside him again and he had to pull himself together very hard not to yell at her again. In the end, however, his temper won out: "You know what? I'm leaving! I'm tired of this kindergarten and this... this kind of you, Y/N."

"Fine!"

"Great!"

,,Fantastic!" sobbed Y/N, but Sirius barely heard it as he stomped up the stairs to his dorm.

Y/N sat back on the couch, exactly in the place where she had been sitting twenty minutes ago and everything was still "fine".

Had he broken up with her?

She didn't know, but she knew it hurt..., it hurt like hell. There was a hole in her heart and it felt like she was losing her boyfriend, who was moving further and further away from her into the mist, so that all she could see was his outline, not even looking back at her. She wanted to reach out to him, to run after him, but something that must have been her own pride pulled her back and tried to convince her that it wasn't her fault.

But she didn't trust that voice. If only she had stayed calmer... Maybe she could have talked to Sirius calmly about her feelings and thoughts....

——————————————————

"Y/N, wake up!" a voice called at her ear and Y/N slowly opened her eyes. Lily.

,, Lily, please! Let me sleep..." she muttered and turned around to avoid the red-haired witch.

"Forget it! It's Saturday...Hogsmead day," Lily purred excitedly.

"No!"

„Oh come on, Y/NN. We're going to Honeyduks and stock up on chocolate! James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are coming too, it'll be fun!", Lily tried to convince her, but Y/N just shook her head.

"I don't want to see him." "Who?" "Sirius." Lily furrowed her eyebrows questioningly, but quickly understood, "Did you two have a fight?" Y/N merely nodded her head and buried her face in her pillow.

"What was it about?" asked Lily, stroking soothing circles on Y/N's back to get the young witch to speak.

"He missed another date and was at some Hufflepuff party. I was so mad at him...I said things I didn't mean and so did he...His temper won of course...I don't know, it all just escalated. I don't think he wants to see me either." Y/N reported as she sat up and Lily nodded understandingly.

"That's bullshit. He knows he messed up, Y/N. Sirius isn't that stupid... and of course he wants to see you! Besides, it's Saturday, so if you two don't get along, you'll need some frustration food, Y/NN... chocolate! It'll be alright." Lily tried to persuade Y/N and she had to grin.

"Maybe you're right..." said Y/N hesitantly, "Of course I am!" laughed Lily and started to push Y/N into the bathroom.

,"I'm sure he'll be pleased." Repeated Lily, giving her friend a cheery smile.

Once in the Great Hall, the two girls headed for the Gryffendor table where all the Marauders were already seated. Lily gave Y/N's hand an encouraging squeeze before greeting the boys: "Hey!" she called and sat down next to James, who greeted her with a kiss. Y/N stood next to them a little indecisively before squeezing in between Peter and Remus, who greeted her with a quiet,, Hi."

She could literally feel the looks of the others lingering between her and Sirius and lowered her gaze to her plate to avoid the looks from the others and especially Sirius... unsuccessfully. She couldn't help but squint over at the black-haired boy. He had bags under his eyes and was also keeping his eyes on his plate, which was full.

Instead of chatting to the others, she followed James and Lily's relationship banter, which made her wrinkle her nose more than once... Cheesy as hell!

Fortunately, breakfast was over quickly and the group set off for Hogsmead. Sirius and Y/N were mostly quiet and only said something when asked. They all went to Honeyduks together first, where Y/N stocked up on lots of chocolate, at which Sirius just raised his eyebrows, but she avoided his questioning gaze and slipped unobtrusively over to Lily, who was sneaking a caramel into her mouth.

Are you okay?" she asked with her mouth full, eyeing her friend who was standing in front of her a little indecisively.

"He's not even looking at me, Lils... What if he broke up with me yesterday and I haven't even noticed?" whispered Y/N in panic and Lily quickly shook her head.

"He didn't break up with you... Sirius, even though this sounds weird, loves you... Even Peter can see that! Just go up to him and talk to him. But stop blaming yourself: HE messed up and stood you up, not you." She said urgently, piercing Y/N with her green eyes.

„It's okay, Lily," Y/N said, and moved away from her friend, again walking to the biscuit shelf, which was very close to her boyfriend. She looked over at him cautiously and noticed that he was peering over at her too, whereupon she quickly averted her gaze from Sirius again and pretended to analyse the biscuits on the shelf with interest.

After the group had paid for their things, they went into the Three Broomsticks. By the time they entered the pub, it was busy and noisy, making it difficult to find a table to seat them all. After a few minutes, Sirius waved the friends over, who had apparently found room at a table where two Hufflepuff girls were still sitting, giggling as Sirius sat down next to them as he grinned charmingly at them.

A wave of jealousy and frustration erupted in Y/N and she had to pull herself together not to flee the pub immediately. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and sat down next to Remus and James, opposite Sirius and Hannah, who probably considered Sirius's forearm her own. She batted her eyelashes and obviously(!) flirted with Sirius, who happily joined in her game.

Y/N quickly looked away, unable to afford to put up with this fuss any longer. Remus unobtrusively squeezed her hand under the table and, Y/N smiled at him gratefully.

Y/N sat awkwardly at the table, not knowing what to do or say next at the sight of her steady boyfriend apparently having already found a new one. Sighing, Y/N stood up and muttered: "I'm going to get us butterbeers, okay?"

Without waiting for the others to reply, she hurried away from the table. She noticed tears forming in her eyes but immediately wiped them away and made her way to the bar where many teenagers were gathered. Desperately, she tried to make her way through the crowd and eventually managed to do so.

She didn't notice someone squeezing up behind her and pushing in next to her until that person snapped at her.

„Y/N?"

Startled, she pulled up to look into the friendly face of Amos Digorry, who was looking down at her.

Oh! Hey, Amos," she greeted her seatmate in Divination and smiled at him.

"Is everything okay with you?" he asked with his eyebrows drawn together and Y/N nodded quickly as she wiped a few remaining tears from her cheeks.

‚,Everything is great, yes," she replied and was glad when Rosmerta put the buttebeer on the counter. Y/N smiled at her in thanks before turning to Amos, "See you around, Amos." She said goodbye and hurried away.

Arriving back at the table, her eyes immediately fell on Sirius and Hannah, who were still talking to each other. Hannah giggled and Sirius seemed to be perfectly comfortable in the company of the beautiful brunette too.

Y/N knew her, she was her seatmate in Potions. As she took a closer look at her, a wave of insecurity gripped her. She had everything one imagines as 'perfect'. She was tall and thin, with a small waist and an elegant posture. She just fitted into the toxic beauty ideals that existed and Y/N hated so much. And the worst part was that there was actually nothing to not like about her. She was sweet and helpful and super nice.

Even though Y/N knew that your weight, your smile, your general appearance, how many friends you have and whether you get good grades doesn't change your worth as a person, she suddenly felt so small and superfluous that she couldn't take it anymore.

She noticed tears welling up in her eyes and stood up abruptly, causing her to bang her knee against the table.

Pained, she screwed up her face and looked at the questioning faces sitting at the table, staring at her. Great... Embarrassed, she brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear and smiled consumingly, but it looked more like a 'I'm going to cry' smile.

"I- I think I forgot my... uh my- something in Honeyduks, I think... I have- so yeah... I'll go..." she stuttered awkwardly, though she realised all her friends knew she was lying.

She quickly hurried away from the table and Sirius, unable to suppress the tears in her eyes. Hastily she wiped them away, but more kept coming. She didn't notice how Lily called after her in vain and Remus got up from his seat and tried to run after her, but James pushed him back into the chair, looking hauntingly at Sirius who sat frozen. When she got to the crowded alleyway, Y/N just stumbled through the crowd and was glad when she got behind Honeydukes, where there was a path that led to the howling hut. The path was snowed in and would have been beautiful if Y/N had paid more attention. She trudged along the path until she finally arrived at the howling hut. She just stared at it and stopped in front of it. She focused on the small cracks in the wall that looked like small branches of trees moving in the wind.

She heard footsteps coming closer and closer and turned around. Sirius. His black hair was a mess and he hadn't even zipped up his jacket. He was panting and apparently out of breath when he started to speak: "I'm sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry, yeah? You have to believe me when I say I'm sorry... Please Y/N, you have to believe me."

She said nothing and just looked at him urgently until he began to speak again: "Please say something. You can yell at me too, you can yell at me all year and the years after, but please say something." He pleaded, looking at her pleadingly as he wiped his face.

"You don't know anything, Sirius." , she started and he nodded to get her to talk further.

"You don't know how much it hurts to wait for a person that you- that you seem to love. You do know what it's like to not feel loved and- and to feel insecure... you know exactly what that feels like. And I always get so mad at the person who makes you feel that way because they hurt you! And I think I can say that I'm there for you then!" she gulped and Sirius nodded to agree with her, "But you're never there..." she sobbed, letting her tears fall again.

"I know you love me and I can't compare your family to our relationship. I feel good in your presence and- and that's how it should be... - that's how it should be! But- but it always hurts so much when you stand me up or ignore me and I don't even know what I- what I did wrong...I wasn't the one who stood you up, Sirius. It was you...and so many times!" she continued in exasperation and Sirius wasn't sure whether to let her finish or give her a hug. But before he could make a decision for himself, Y/N continued: "And today was even worse! Lily told me all the time that it wasn't my fault and now I know that it wasn't or isn't mine either. But then when you were flirting with Hannah and you-you were having such a good time, I was so sad! Why can you talk to her and have fun but not with me?! Why are you happy to see her but not me?!" asked Y/N desperately and Sirius opened his mouth to stop her from having those thoughts but she continued with a sad look: "You once promised me you would never make me feel small or insecure. You once promised to always be there for me. You once promised me that I was the "only one" and that you loved me. You promised to be there for me so many times, Sirius. But somehow you broke them all and I don't know what to do with these broken promises. I love you and that's not going to change, but I- I just don't know what to do with it when you- you hurt me so much and make me feel so insecure... So actually, you do know what that feels like...just differently." She confessed to him and completely burst into tears.

Sirius, who had tears in his own eyes, looked at her with a pained smile, which made her cry even more. He broke the distance between them and took her in his arms. He pressed her tightly against him and had to bend down to put his face in the crook of her neck. She clung to his shoulders and pressed her face into his chest to breathe in his familiar scent.

They stood like that for a while. Both crying, holding each other as close as possible. After a few minutes, Sirius slowly detached himself so he could look into her eyes.

"You don't know how sorry I am, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you! Merlin, when I think about the fact that I did it, I want to hurt myself. You're- you're- Damn, I'm not good with words!" he laughed and even Y/N had to smile a little.

,,I love you. For everything you do and for everything you say. I love you for who you are and for those little things you do for others. And I will- will never stand you up or break the promises I made to you ever again. I swear I will do my best, Y/N....and I am so grateful that you love me because I never wanted anything else in my life! You don't have to forgive me now...I understand if you don't, honestly." He said softly so she could just hear.

She smiled slightly at him and said laughing: "So if you kiss me now, it'll make things a bit better."

Sirius grinned and closed the distance between them, placing his warm lips on hers. He kissed her softly and lovingly, as if afraid to scare her away, but she didn't go. She deepened their kiss a little and sighed into his mouth.

As they kissed there like that, in front of the howling hut with dried tears on their cheeks, Y/N knew that everything would be allright again....

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katsukikitten · 3 years

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Just some general warnings and disclaimers, this is an aged up Victorian era AU that I did a sort of collab with @bakugotrashpanda, so please check out BTP’s work as well. We had so much fun discussing this idea and breathing life into it, we would love to hear how these stories made you feel. Please also note that the woman in the banner is NOT the set skin tone for reader so please feel free to have that match your own skin tone! Also this is one of my bigger works coming in at a little over 14,000 words! (maybe a part two idk) but enjoy~

The room ebbs in the low light of flickering candles, people gather in clusters like lost geese as they honk their gossip at one another causing you to sigh. It would be another long night of mental games as your cold eyes fail to warm from the eccentric sights. Silk dresses, long gloves, shimmering gems, and endless drink and food.

Yet you hated how little power you had over your choice of being here or not.

Countless eyes rake over your long dress, always choosing a color so deep in hue it is often mistaken for black. They often murmur curiosities as they ponder over what exactly you are mourning.

Little do they know it is your freedom.

Tonight you are in blood red with matching gloves to your elbows, diamonds, garnets and rubies drip from your throat and ears. A sight to be seen in your bold dark colors that are often frowned upon during the bright season of spring and summer.

A bold male approaches and yet the closer he gets to your stunning form the more meek he becomes. He nods his head and reaches for your hand, pressing his lips to your gloved knuckles.

"May I have your first dance?" He peers up at you as you stare down with an icy glare. Removing your hand with deadly precision from a man you know of but could not care less about.

"You may not." You say simply and all he can do is stew in his rejection, affirming your wishes with a small nod. Another male in a smooth storm grey suit approaches. His large hand grasping onto your fingers, bringing your knuckles to his lips.

"You look exquisite my dear. Would you honor me with your first dance?"

"I shall not." Another subtle yet swift removal of your hand from his, wishing you had worn two pairs of gloves for this sniveling little asshole. Not everyone knew his secret love for abusing women but you did. He would never get the pleasure of dancing with you and in the two years since your introduction into the market you've made sure he had no one to wed. Using the power and respect people had towards your Father's name, towards you for guidance, ultimately steering them away from this pathetic sack of bones.

And with your power you were dubbed the icy hot debutante of Alryne, fierce as a flame so hot, it felt cold.

You wear a neutral face, but you do not smile, making yourself a touch unapproachable. This already weeds out the weak men who want nothing more than to suck the blood and money from your father's estate.

But it wasn't as if the neutral face was easy to achieve, oftentimes you had to fight a scowl. For two years you've hated every second of every ball, party, or soiree since the Queen smiled in your favor during your first debut. She often praised, as did your mother, your cold precision, quick wit, and intelligent political decisions that were so well disguised that men just thought you modest.

When in actuality you were playing the game, and since you were being forced to play by your father then by Hell's flames you would win it all.

The first half of the ball drags in stupor of tedious repetition as you idly chat with women of various titles to gather any information you could without revealing your own hand.

Besides all of the pestering gnats, everyone knows that your first dance is always reserved for important males, to never approach until after the two of your six stamps have already been taken. Even then there was a high chance of rejection, as there were no men of value to be seen.

At least not yet. For as long as you could remember the higher ranked males arrived a touch late, "fashionably late" they claim. Abhorrently annoying is what you call it.

Fashionably late men such as Lord Bakugou, son to the Duke of Summer or his distant cousin Lord Kirishima, son to the Duke of Spring.

Bakugou arrives first, his grin wolfish as he scans the crowd, women flock to his arrogance in troves, although he ignores them. He has one woman in his sights yet it is not the woman he stands before. You give a small courtesy as you speak.

"My Lord." Offering your hand gently.

"My Starlight." He presses his lips to your silky glove for a long moment unable to keep his cocky smirk off of his face, "May I take your first dance?"

Fighting to keep the delighted smile off of your face you offer a flutter of your lashes. He kisses your knuckles once more as if you needed convincing but the two of you know what you are doing.

"You may." And with that his wolfish grin returns as he sweeps you onto the dance floor, showcasing your abilities as he shows off his own. Not to mention the dance floor is a great place to talk in private. His hand lingers just above your lower back, firm in his grip as his other hand holds yours almost delicately.

"We match tonight, my Starlight. A brilliant touch." He guides you along the floor with ease, his eyes gesturing towards his vest and tie.

"I only took an educated guess as to what you would wear, my Lord."

"Do not sell yourself short. I know how sharp that mind is." Another wolfish grin, his eyes never leaving yours while feeling the court gaze upon the two of you. You give him a knowing smile before asking.

"Any luck with her majesty, the prized diamond?" You ask, eyes blazing with curiosity. He smirks again, only his eyes revealing his true scoff as he twirls you in your jeweled slippers.

"I did as you instructed and went with my father to that dreaded stay at the countryside Manor, how did you know her Majesty and Princess Amila would be close by."

"I took an educated guess." A blatant lie that has him grinning from ear to ear. He leans closer, pulling the attention of the ladies especially as his ember eyes burn into you.

"Far more than an educated guess." He spins you again and you fight the tightness in your gut. Enjoying the dance as he parades you around the room as if to say look at what I have that you could never.

Even if the two of you agreed you would never be his. The two of you having struck up an arrangement of sorts on your first dance. He was forced by his Grace to ask at least one woman to dance and he had only chosen you with hopes that you would say no.

But you loved the honest, irritated look that lingered in his eyes and on his lips. So of course you said yes as misery loves company. It was then he told you not to fall for him as he had his eyes set on the Crown, you laughed loudly and said "As if I would ever fall for an arrogant pig such as yourself, my Lord." His smile was wild as he enjoyed your insult, it was then you told him you would help him with the Crown, only if he made you his first and last dance of the evening at every event.

Back then he had hesitantly agreed, now he can see how far your scheming mind went. Saw the numerous callers and suitors who loitered in your parlor, the extravagant flowers that they sent in excess. The rings they bestowed to you as they dropped to one knee, bold enough to peacock the large diamonds in front of other callers.

And all after Bakugou had done as you asked for only three parties. He got a front row seat to rejection every single time, which in turn started the talk, the gossip, that this city loved. You were desired because of how you painted yourself and in turn made Lord Bakugou desired as well. Talked about, all because he was the only male who had your approval.

He loved your scheming mind so much he could kiss you, but alas you did not wear a crown. Although you often had a braid of jewels atop your head, sadly you were not kin to royalty, only a Baron's daughter after all.

Bakugou wonders what you could have done as a queen. He would think you an empress.

"Is that all the detail I get? Just a confirmation that I was correct about their holiday?" He spins the two of you in step, hand guiding you although you did not need it. Having memorized every step to every dance there was since before your debut.

"She saw me."

"And?!" You can hardly keep up the façade of calm collection as you wait.

"And she flushed. Her cheeks were as red as any rose, Starlight, she was a rare red diamond sparkling by the lake. She must already be in love with me." You snort, unable to stop the smile on your lips.

"I've never heard you so poetic before. Normally you leave that to Lord Kirishima. How many times did you run into her? Not more than three I hope."

"Oi, I am a well versed student and I listened to my teacher. I made her wait for the fourth and denied it. Left her in wonder and hope as you said." He rolls his eyes, fingers sliding up to your dress line touching your bare skin with his beneath your guise of hair. The sensation of his warm fingers against your cool skin does not go unnoticed.

"Are you practicing for your dance with the 'rare red diamond' now?" You taunt, earning that chest tightening wolf grin.

"I'm only doing as my teacher has instructed."

"Well the Princess will fall for you the moment you kiss her hand."

"One can only hope. Her official debut is less than a month away. I want it to be perfect." His eyes shimmer with plotting mischief as does yours.

"So it shall."

The music flows and ebbs to the end of the song as Bakugou deposits you right back where he got you. Bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles as he holds your gaze once more.

"My Starlight." When he straightens you curtsy.

"My Grace." With that he leaves, heading towards the table of sweets and beverages, you were sure he would be ordering bourbon. Your mother clears her throat from her chair, the out of season silk blanket over her thick skirts pulls at your heart. She sits on that plush chair as if it were her throne.

"You dance with Lord Bakugou often." An observation.

"Indeed." A dry retort.

"I am sure Lord Kirishima will be your next dance, correct?"

"One can only hope."

"So you have an eye for a Duke's son?"

"I am happy to dance with those deserving, Mother." Your mother keeps her eyes on the turning bodies on the hardwood floor, Kirishima makes his way through the crowd once he spies you. Your mother turns to face you as she says

"Is the Duke of Winter's son deserving?"

"Hmm, he has three sons, mother." You keep your eyes away from her until she finally looks back into the crowd.

"Ah yes but only one is ever at these events." You follow your mother's gaze and they fall upon the Lord, he is the third son, he opted to chase after the world of medicine rather than women. Earning his doctorate much faster than his peers, he only just returned to conduct his practice in Alryne.

Pity he returned at all.

He catches your eye and you make a point to turn your cheek, unable to stomach his heterochromatic, condensing gaze. Your turned cheek was as close to fuck you as you could ever say to the high and mighty Lord. Still the words burned on your tongue as if you swallowed acid.

"It is not as if he ever dances mother. Therefore, how can I give him my attention? As you taught me a woman must wait to be asked as it is every woman's dream to be wed to a handsome, skilled dancer." Out of the corner of your eye you can feel her displeased look before she straightens.

"At least do not string along Lord Kirishima, that boy is not as zealous as his cousin." She says just as the large man slips through the last throng of the crowd.

"My shining gem." He smiles with sharp teeth before he places a chaste kiss atop your hand.

"My Lord." A curtsy before he asks.

"May I have this dance?" His smile is plastered on his face as he knows your answer.

"You may." Kirishima sweeps you across the floor in a different manner than Bakugou. Lord Kirishima is more flirtatious in the way that he guides you. Always choosing more of the upbeat dances as opposed to his cousin's serious selection. You do not hesitate to go in for the kill.

"So when do you plan to ask Lady Mina for her hand?" He blushes at your words. Biting the inside of his lip subtly, a habit you could only notice from being up close.

"Have you even attempted to court her? What fear plagues you, Lord?" Confusion dots your features as a sad smile paints his soft lips.

"I am not sure she would- That we would be an ideal fit." Kirishima admits, turning you gracefully, pulling you close to his body. Scandalous some would say had the two of you been an inch closer.

"Well my Lord, I believe, had you actually talked to her while the two of you danced, as I suggested, then you would come to find out that she is lovely. Pure hearted as she is honest in this game seeking love. Most women here are making attempts to move up in position, my Lord. As a Duke's first son the title of Grace is yours to master. She is a delight and air is not the only thing between her ears as some of these…"You survey the room as everyone watches with greedy eyes, "Vultures."

He laughs never used to your own unwavering honesty. He knows you are not participating by your own free will, he knows because you are helping himself and his cousin when he was sure you could have had anyone in this room.

If the Majesty's nephew, Prince of the Yarrow were to attend even one ball this season, Kirishima was sure you would have his attention too.

He twirls your body away from his and brings you back to the safety of his sturdy form. Your eyes are molten determination as you all but hiss

"Ask her to dance next. You know the host prefers the set to be serious, flirtatious, and then a slow dance. It will be the perfect time to talk."

Lord Kirishima sighs, squeezing your hand as he guides the two of you closer to your mother so he can leave you in her company.

"You could turn any dull man into something more. Whoever wins your hand is getting a precious gem indeed." He kisses your hand as the music begins to change into something slower as you had predicted.

"One shall only hope." You curtsy as he takes his flushed neck towards a certain Countess. Your mother gives you a knowing look and you offer her a cat smirk. She shakes her head but even she cannot hide her own satisfied smile.

A blonde male approaches, as he does every third ball after he ensures your first two dances have been taken. The flamboyant male has not once asked for a dance first, trying to be just as calculating as you. Although he is much more obvious.

You suppose it was not half bad for a male.

"My lady." He bends lower than he should for his station in life, but he is obviously copying the cousins before him having seen how it makes you smile.

Lavender eyes shine up at you as the Viscount brings his lips to your gloved hand. You debate if you should say yes tonight. Having left him in the dark as your desire to dance with him solely depended on your mood.

"May I show the room the grace in which steals the breath from my lungs?" Your eyes smirk as your lips form a small smile. It seems flattery would earn him a dance tonight.

"You may."

The Viscount smiles with delight as he gently takes you to the dance floor, holding you to him as he takes you across the hardwood. The candle lights play along your features as Monoma's face grows soft. Had he been anyone else his gaze might have brought a flush about you. The two of you shared a few dances before, he has sat in your parlor in the time he has attempted to court you and the flowers he sends are always the most expensive.

He has even brought you chocolate from a month's long trip. Even you had to admit that was thoughtful, not too many people knew of your Achilles heel. A small part of you thought that if no one else would do, at least this man would bring you luxurious chocolates.

"No trips this season?" You smile politely, he blinks as he seems to come to.

"Only if I can take you with me." He smiles, a hint. You pretend yourself modest and look away to fight the roll of your eyes.

Maybe chocolate would not be enough to sate you.

His eyes flicker to your mother as a question forms on his lips.

"Neither your brothers nor the Baron attended tonight?"

"Ah unfortunately no. My mother is my chaperone tonight." You say tilting your head, he turns so you can face her, stepping slowly as the song lulls on.

"I am elated she is well enough to attend." He smiles, you cannot tell if it reaches his eyes so instead you offer

"As am I."

The rest of the night is filled with rejection tumbling from your rouged lips as champagne flutes seem to find their way into your hand.

"Not too much of that dear or you will not be able to enjoy the company of your suitors."

"Truly a pity." You say taking another from a passing waiter. Eyes trained on Lord Iida and the lovely dancer in his hands, a blue dress sweeping across the floor and a white carnation nestled in her hair.

A beautiful touch and it pays homage to their first dance before they were even wed.

The love that embraced the couple could turn anyone in the room green with envy.

You down your flute as you reach for another.

Night brightens into morning much too soon as curtains are ripped open in your room.

"My lady callers will be here soon." Rose, your handmaiden says softly, "I have a bath waiting for you."

You groan in response having not had enough sleep after pouring over your drafts for your book until your candle snuffed itself out.

"Turn them all away Rose." You growl turning away from the irritating light, could it not have rained this morning to delay the suitors as it always did in this forsaken town?

"She will do no such thing." Your mother says as she walks into your room with her cane, her hand gripping onto the golden beak of a bird.

"Mother, why not marry off Hendrix or Hideki?"

"Hendrix must apprentice under your Father for a period of time while Hideki can do as he pleases for now. He is only 20, besides he makes an excellent chaperone does he not? He isn't too nosy nor does he neglect his duties to intimidate pushy men." She pushes some of your hair back as she sighs, "Although I doubt you need help in that manor."

"I deserve a strong bloodline, so I will do what I must to ensure that. Even if my face has to be scary at times." You and your mother share a laugh before she adds.

"Your face is far from scary my dear." She touches your cheek softly rising from the bed to allow you to get ready, "The suitors shall arrive within the hour. Make haste."

"Yes mother." You half groan rising to wash. Enjoying the warm water that Rose has so kindly added aromatic flora and citrus to. Once you enter your bedroom Rose has a dress picked out for you, waiting for your final approval. You nod allowing Rose to assist you with your corset and strings of your dress before you pick out jewelry to match your silver finery. You choose a silver bracelet with little diamonds as stars that Lord Bakugou had given you for your birthday this past year, smiling down at the small thing before assessing yourself in the mirror.

"What do you think Rose, should I add some rouge to my lips?" She gives you a smile of delight.

"And your cheeks too, my Lady."

Breakfast is served in the parlor as it consists mostly of fruits and finger pastries that will be served to the other guests. Hideki comes down in a fine and deep sapphire suit.

“Sister.” He gives a smirk to which you nod.

“Brother.”

“And what trouble will you get into today?” He stage whispers, causing you to cut him a glare as your father comes around to loom in the arch way of the parlor.

“Remember, you need to pick a husband this season or I will pick for you. It is disgraceful to have gone through two seasons at your age.”

“I am only twenty four, dearest Father..”

“That just proves my point. You have a month before I extend an offer to the Duke's-.” He takes in a sharp breath to chide you further only for his Grace to swoop in and save the day.

“Baron.” Bakugou says, his eyes challenging as your father bows his head. As Bakugou makes his way towards the delicate foods. Father cuts you a knowing glare. As if to say I know your games child.

You offer a sweet smile as you make your way towards your small writing desk, fighting off the urge to groan outwardly. You just wanted to work on your manuscript or read for that matter. Instead you would have to entertain men who cared not what you thought only what your pretty mouth would not say. They would swarm you, demanding attention as you waved them off gently, half you had never even spoken too. Bakugou gives you a wicked smile from beside you as if he could read your thoughts. At least he always sat closest to you, saving you in a way although you never instructed him to sit close.

He just always had.

"Do you not want to play the piano today, my shining Gem?" Kirishima asks from the door.

"Ah I am not sure I am in the mood for it, my Lord."

"Easier to avoid people as the bench is only meant for one." Bakugou gives a devilish smirk, Kirishima almost pouts, his sullen expression does not go unnoticed by his cousin.

"It has been an eon since you last played for us." Bakugou adds.

"Am I to be your song bird today?" You cut a glare at him.

"Yes, Starlight I believe you are." It seems it had no effect. Sighing you stand, collecting your skirts as your wrist twinkles in the morning sun. Garnet eyes bore into the delicate wristlet. Your fingers pluck a key here or there until you begin to play. Losing yourself in the music as you sing ballads from ages ago, melding them into songs you've written until it all sounds like a cohesive piece. Each old song is lost in transition to the new one, time ticks on but you do not notice the string of men who come and go from your parlor. Resting your voice for the time being as your fingers fly across the keys to something you composed while thinking of your father and his ever pushing hand towards a Duke's son you had great distaste for. The notes are sharp, almost jarring at times yet still the piece is stunning. In that time you had not noticed the lavender eyed man who sat closest to you, right in front of the piano in the corner of the couch. The finger cramping song ends on a somber, harsh note.

"What a beautifully charged song." Monoma says breathlessly.

“Well I was thinking of my enemies when I composed it.” You smile at the sunshine blonde with a devilish grin, he feels unsettled by it but says nothing nonetheless. His lavender eyes glance over to the wolves at the back of your den. Hideki gives him a small nod, Kirishima a soft smile but Bakugou gives him a glare that feels like Monoma is gripping needles.

He swallows thickly, adjusting himself on the plushed silk of the couch before your small piano.

“Ah before I forget.” He smiles pulling out a box setting it atop the polished wood. Gifts were a natural part of courtship or so your mother said. You offer a smile, grabbing for the box with poised eagerness and yet not overly so.

Not that you were excited but you had to pretend to be. You unbox the obvious jewelry and fight back the distaste as you stare down at a gaudy, overly large necklace. The colors are a soft green and yellow, colors you avoid for many reasons.

“Thank you.” You think to add a chord or two to your unnamed song in honor of Monoma. Bakugou laughs loudly from the back of the room, feeling how much you hate the gift, you look over your shoulder to send him a glare that he can only smile at.

After hours of trepid and boring conversation Monoma takes his leave.

“Another evening my Lady.” He smiles softly and you return it half heartedly.

“Another evening.” Lavender looks over your shoulder before Monoma clears his throat

“Your Grace and your Grace.” He bows his head, the ash blonde and redhead nod in unison.

"Shall we go and drink my high friends?" Hideki asks, hoping for an excuse to leave the stuff house. He was more than over bearing witness to gag worthy stares and compliments some of these men gave you.

"An excellent idea!" Kirishima exclaims, standing before stopping by you. He takes your gloveless hand with a sharp, flirtatious smile.

"My shining gem." He presses his lips to your skin and you return his smile.

"My Lord." He nods and takes his leave, Hideki at his heels as Bakugou approaches. He does an exaggerated sigh unable to hide his smirk.

"Little songbird how will I ever get through the night without my Starlight?" He holds your hand, lowering his upper half as did his cousin before him.

"I suppose you will fumble in the dark."

"If only I had the pleasure." He purrs as he presses his lips to your bare skin. Suddenly his fingers are too warm as he holds your gaze, he looks as if he could devour you.

Lest he forget he is staring down a panther himself.

"Have fun fumbling in the dark by yourself, my Lord." You remove your hand and look out of the corner of your eye at him. He backs towards the door of the room.

"I should hope to have thoughts of Starlight." He calls before he disappears into the hall. You tap a key as your mind wanders before you rise, famished and ready for dinner before you would take a long night of writing.

A month passes by faster than you'd like and you find yourself outside of the ballroom in the grand hall of the castle. Soft music filters in through the doors as your Father insisted the family be a bit late this evening.

For he wanted to make a statement and one at your expense.

"If Duke Enji's son asks you for a dance you will oblige." Your father hisses, his large hand curling around your bicep. You bare your teeth, stepping out of his grip as you collect yourself.

"He has three." Acid drips from your tongue as sure as morning dew.

"The doctor. Not the failure first born and not the inadequate second. The third. Shoto. Think of your ailing mother...would you abandon her for such vile, pointless ambitions?"

"I think you will not weaponize her. So do as I please and decline." You hold his burning glare as you add, "If the Duke's family is as bad off as you make it seem."

"Oh I think you shall accept his dance. Or so help me God I will burn every book your ill, grief stricken mother ever shoved into your scrubby little hands." He leans closer, a nasty smile forming as his lips, "And if that is not enough I will throw your manuscript into the fire for fodder."

Your eyes blaze with a rage that ignites beneath your skin, burning your blood as your eyes make unspoken promises. When I am through with you

You part your lips to retort but your eye catches Hendrix and Hideki, their eyes filled with pity before your mother slowly approaches.

Father chose his battleground well, knowing you would be unable to react as you pleased and with Bakugou already at the party there was no other male to save you. You bite your tongue until you taste blood.

"Is everything alright?" Mother asks tentatively, fussing with your hair, "Darling you must mind your face, my love."

You swat her away, breathing through your nose as if you were a dragon. Heat still dancing in your veins as you allow your feet to move on their own.

"Announce me. Only me. And do not announce another soul until I am beyond the last step." You hiss to the harbinger whose eyes grow wide before he nods. His voice booms over the murmurers of the crowd and once eyes begin to land on you they are silenced.

Your eyes are set hard and as cold as stone as you look over the crowd, slowly descending the steps in your deep ombre gown. Starless night black from the bodice before it lightens gradually into a charcoal grey, glittering crystals sewn into the material shine in the candle light like miniature stars. Your gloves followed the same gradual pattern except it seemed as if each finger was dipped in glittering silver and atop your wrist was your favorite piece, diamonds winking in the low light set into silver pointed stars. Woven in your hair were diamonds and pale citrine alike forming a crown in its own nature.

Had Her Royal Highness not have already been announced and seated it would be easy to mistake you for the Crown. Considering how you commanded attention and held yourself, eyes looking at no one but seeing all.

The envy, the awe, the lust.

A pivotal moment was coming, the last three stairs is where a woman would normally hold out their hand, expecting their favorite suitor to take action but you did not hold out your hand. Keeping one firmly on the dark wood of the banister while the other was eloquently posed beside you. Even if you had held out your hand the men in the room were too stunned to step up to help you. This allowed a soft, devilish smile to form on your painted lips as they performed exactly as you had planned. Finally your gem encrusted slipper touched the hardwood, parting the crowd before the spell was broken by the announcement of the rest of your family. The room let out a collective breath and instantly erupted in hot gossip. All of it falling on deaf ears as you grabbed onto a flute of trusted champaign.

From across the room you felt burning garnet eyes on you, you met them briefly before sipping at your bubbly beverage. He begins to cross the sea of bodies when a large man steps into your view.

His eyes are cold as they bore into you, a shining sapphire paired with a smokey quartz. Distaste curdles your stomach as you fight to keep your face neutral and your eyes trained on him. Fans block painted lips as they spread more gossip about the man before you.

"Is she ensnaring another Duke's son?"

"She is becoming too haughty for a Baron's daughter."

"Do you think she insulted the Crown with her entrance?"

"Would you allow me your first dance?" His deep voice cuts through the vultures' cries pulling you back to him. He has your glittering left hand in his. Brining the dazzling glove to his lips in greeting, there is no joy in his gemstone gaze.

The hot rage bears its teeth again as it surges through your blood like liquid fire, burning so hot it felt cold as it licked at your bones. Your lip barely twitches, No poised on your tongue as your father's grating voice echoes in your head.

"Think of your ailing mother...would you abandon her for such vile, pointless ambitions?"

And so your mouth finally forms the words.

"You may." He looks surprised, surrounding faces mirror his own before he fully takes your hand. Guiding you to the floor during one of your favorite songs that you always sat out as no dance partner ever dared the secret, advanced steps. You were steeling yourself for disappointment

Shoto's grip on your body is tight but not uncomfortable as he sweeps you across the dance floor, twirling you, guiding you as he holds your gaze. His stare is heavy and intense in a different manner from Bakugou's with a hint of something that could be mistaken as flirtatious. But you saw it for what it was, discontent.

As the song pushed on the discontent seemed to change into something new entirely as he showcased your skill while hiding his own. Allowing you to twirl away from him in several rotations that would make even the most skillful dancer fearful of misstep and yet you breathed in the music as if it were precious air. Neither of you notice how the other dancers give you room, allowing for more twirls and advanced steps as the two of you are becoming lost to the music. His fingers brush your bare skin as he pulls you back to him for guided, sharp steps as the music heightens. His skin brushes yours again, electricity thrums beneath the pads of his fingers before he sends you into another dizzying rotation but to you it was nothing. Briefly you wonder if this were a test until you see the soft smile on his lips when you return to his arms safely for the final set of guided steps before the music were to abruptly end, just as the dance was intended. His eyes were glued to yours the entirety of the dance, softening with each step.

Both of you stop in beat with the last soaring note panting as the movement seems to catch up with the two of you. Neither of you realize how quiet the room is until clapping comes from the royal dais high above the room, the rest of the crowd follows suit. Shock melts into a smile as your eyes return to his. A sharp pain rings out in his chest.

"Not bad for a Baron's daughter." Disgust settles on your face faster than you can stop it spewing from your lips.

"Not bad for a recluse of a Duke's son." You tilt your head up, fighting the snarl of your lip as his face becomes so mind numbingly neutral while his eyes darken. Shoto drops you off by your mother only for Bakugou to approach, swiftly bringing you to the floor for a slow song.

"Starlight. How did I not know you could dance like that?" He is astonished by your skill, "I've never seen you so happy. Maybe the Duke of Winter's third son will do you justice yet."

You scoff but all Bakugou can do is offer you a deadly smile.

"Enough about my dead end dancing." Your eyes glance towards the dias, the Princess cannot look away from the two of you, "This should be enough for the Princess to want to dance soon."

It is Bakugou's turn to scoff.

"Are you sure she is even going to have the opportunity to dance? No one is even allowed on the stairs to their enclave."

"Ah but this is her debut. The Queen will allow it, besides the princess cannot keep her gaze off of a certain ash blonde."

"How could she ever?" Your laugh rings out, it warms even the coldest hearts as Bakugou pulls you closer to him. Heat radiates from his body in a calming manner, your fingers squeeze his.

"Arrogant as ever." You smile, thinking how you will miss dancing with him or even having him at the back of your parlor to laugh with over sad attempts at your hand, "Remember once you take her one dance for the night, she must be your first and last dance of the night in the future, if not your only."

Bakugou cannot hide the dejection in his eyes even as he feigns cockiness.

"I am a well versed student, remember?" His fingers brush over your skin, his middle finger tracing a small circle.

"The best student I could ask for." The music comes to a close on more than just the song as Bakugou returns you to your family. He presses a long kiss to your glittering glove.

"Until we meet again, my Starlight." He holds your stare.

"Until then my Grace." With that the night sets into motion as you turn down dances left and right. Eyeing a ruby haired man who twirls a certain countess in his hands. As the music ends the Queen stands earning a hushed crowd.

"My daughter, the Royal Princess shall take the dance floor, she will only allow one dance on the night of her debut." It is not a shock that she is allowed so little but there is no worry on Bakugou's face. The princess straightens at the top of the stairs, trying to exude the same commanding energy you did. She falls short in power but outshines you in other wordly innocence and grace. As if she were a lily that only bloomed for the moon, her beauty unmatched in her pale pink dress. Carefully she guides the layers of it down the steps as diamonds and pearls drip from her hair and throat. She tries to keep her eyes from sticking to a broad shouldered man and yet at the same time from wandering, as she stares at the back wall of the room.

As she nears the third step Bakugou struts towards his prize with the ease of a relaxed swagger, glaring at men as he passes before he reaches the bottom of the steps. Extending his hand to the Princess just as she hits the third step from the bottom. She cannot keep the smile off of her face as her gloved hand claps onto his bare fingers. He bows deeply, raising her hand above him to look from beneath long lashes before he brings his lips to the silk.

"Your Royal Highness, my shining diamond. You are truly the envy of the night." A flush gives the Princess' lack of experience away, "May I have this dance?"

"You may." It is a breathy answer before Bakugou sweeps her off of her feet. Charming her with each calculated step and arrogant quip. The princess smiles wide and almost pouts once the music begins to ebb. Bakugou returns her to the stairs, supporting her hand as long as he can before she rises out of reach.

But to Bakugou she never was and never will be unattainable.

Before the night is over an envelope is pressed into your hands with the Crown's seal pressed into the wax. You quirk your brow, tucking it away to be read at home.

"I am so elated you came." Her voice is like honey as the butler opens the doors to a parlor so large it could hold your entire home. She guides you towards a small table and fights with the layers of her silk dress before sitting.

"How could I reject a personal invitation from her majesty?" You sit across from her, eyes going over the deck of cards and a set of tea.

"Well, believe it or not, I do not have the pleasure of friends, so please call me Amila."

"Everyone would desire to be a friend of the Crown, your Royal Highness." You counter, quickly she points her fan towards you, tapping your side of the small ornate card table.

"Ah but you do not have the desire to befriend the Crown, so I have high hopes that you will befriend me for me." She smiles, a certain gleam to her eye before she says, "Now let's talk about handsome Bakugou and how well you played me."

Your face gives nothing away as you look up from the cards you've been dealt. Your mind rushes down all possible avenues but you know to avoid the one of playing dumb. It is obvious that the Princess has a keen eye.

"Surely you'll reveal to me what gave us away."

"After that dance Bakugou had with me, had I been anyone else he would have returned to you. He either has his only dance with you or his last dance with you. I figured him or Lord Kirishima to be heavily interested in you. You are a sparkling gem amongst the coal down there so I know you have many callers and suitors. But the last to leave are always Lord Bakugou and Lord Kirishima. That is what has thrown me off the scent." You laugh at her honesty of the knowledge she has obviously collected about you or was tactful enough to guess.

"This is what we do, your Royal Highness." Your gloved hand gestures to the table, "I take them for all that they are worth." An honest giggle leaves Amilia's lips.

"For that I am grateful and some would dare say I am in your debt."

"A brazen statement." Your eyes return to your cards, "I would not state it as a debt although I am happy to receive your gratitude. Especially since it is in the form of cards and cake."

A laugh falls from her lips as a smile settles on yours. The round of cards continues. You win the first few rounds and then Amelia has a lucky hand. Winning the last white tea macaron.

"Did you allow me to best you?"

"Lady Luck just happened to take favor of the Crown."

"Or maybe she took pity. " She smiles, fingers fidgeting nervously, "Would you care to admire the art? Mother allows me to have this as my own personal parlor so I decorate it as I wish."

"I would love to admire some of these lovely paintings. Starting with the one behind you." You stand, heading to the large piece you had been eyeing for some time during the games. You could tell by the stroke of the brush that the artist was newer to painting but they were quite talented, the strokes almost went unnoticed even by your sharp eye.

Most importantly were the emotions the work of art evoked from the viewer.

Silently the two of you drank in the large oil painting. The canvas colored in deep pinks, reds and oranges as the sun laid to rest to allow its lover the full scope of the sky. Shadows stretched far and towards the viewer and if one paid close attention they would notice the black cat in the corner with two large moon eyes.

You especially liked this painting, the ease it made you feel even earning a small smile.

"I can already tell this one is by far my favorite, your Royal Highness you have a fine eye for art." She blushes at your compliment, twisting some of her low hanging hair. You keep your amusement of her flustering to yourself, eyes trained on the swirling colors of the rippling blue mirror of the sky, looking for a signature.

Odd, there isn't a looping set of initials in the corner like most have. As if reading it on your face she speaks.

"I- I am the artist…" It is shy and soft, unlike the Princess and you realize the weight of the truth. That she had not heard one genuine compliment of anything that she had ever done.

All she would ever receive is flattery and only for the hopes of kindness from the Crown. Finally time swallows up her sudden meekness as she blurts out.

"Are you sure Lord Bakugou is not in love with you? I know you fancy Lord Todoroki, Doctor Shoto."

"I do not fancy the Doctor, he simply is the most logical option I have currently, he would make a fine partner and husband. The seasons have not brought anyone new and my days of spring are limited." You idly move to the next painting as you speak, "As far as Lord Bakugou, he and I are too much alike. Too ambitious for our own good, we'd either explode or implode I'm afraid. Like some tragic star in the vast galaxy."

"You would not marry for love?"

"It is best to marry for a strong partnership, love is a possible byproduct, however it proves to be a rarity. Love comes with time, your Royal Highness, a luxury us women do not have." You glance her way, "Not even a Princess is immune to this unfortunate condition from which all women suffer."

"But he looks at you with intense burning, with...love."

A quiet moment passes between the two of you before you offer your honesty.

"He would learn to look at you that way, more than he would see the Crown. Especially with your mind and artistic skill. He would be a fool not to fall for you." Her eyes water at your response, "Come, let me teach you how to best Bakugou at his favorite card game, Amelia."

When you return home later that afternoon Bakugou is fidgeting outside of the manor causing your brow to furrow. Then it dawns on you that one of your brother's has a big mouth and told his Grace where you would be.

"My Lord."

"Starlight." He offers you a strong arm and you take it as he guides you up the stairs and into the parlor just off the foyer.

"Are you here to gossip?" You trust Bakugou enough to go without a chaperone, besides the doors to the parlor are wide open. You sink into your writing chair as he takes his normal seat by your side. The plush cushions do not ease his twitching fingers before you give him a playful shove.

"Out with it then!" You giggle, the sound pulls a devilish smirk from the blonde seemingly easing whatever troubled his mind. He leans back into the cushions.

"So, how much did her Highness speak of me? Endless compliments no doubt." His teeth flash white as you roll your eyes.

"And here I thought you had a pressing matter." You move to turn away from him to focus on writing but he grabs onto your knee. Giving it a gentle squeeze as his face gives him away. The tips of his ears burn before he clears his throat.

"I have to show you something and I need your honest opinion." Silence is his answer as you patiently wait for him to produce the mystery item. Slowly he reaches into his pocket, a black velvet box is in his hands. A smile blooms on your lips as you anticipate the ring he must have picked for the princess. He opens the box and your heart free falls into your stomach.

It is a pear shaped black diamond flanked by silvery diamonds that wink in the afternoon sun. At the top of the circle of diamonds was a deep red garnet that looked like a drop of blood. The ring felt powerful if it could make one feel such a thing. You fist your skirts as you collect yourself. He watches your face contort as you look over the ring, his jaw ticking with worry as you assess what is essentially both his ego and pride.

But the ring is breathtaking, perfect really.

"Katsuki, it is a gorgeous ring…" Your voice trails as you admire it, "But I believe the princess to have less...moody tastes. She does not normally wear dark colors."

A small silence stretches between the two of you, almost as if he expects something else, quickly he snaps the box shut.

"This is why I ask you things, my stunning Starlight." He pulls out a red velvet box popping it open. This ring is beautiful as well but does not have your heart as much as the first.

It is a stunning and giant marquise cut white diamond. Blinding in the light with a halo of pale pink diamonds. It is vibrant, radiant like the princess. Katsuki always did pick out the perfect jewelry to match a woman's tastes. Bakugou watches your face carefully, the sad smile that pulls your lips upward causes a deep ache in his chest. His jaw ticks again but you answer before he can even think to lash out.

"Your Grace, this will surely win her heart." He looks you in your eyes, a flash of an emotion you cannot quite catch before his arrogance returns.

"Indeed it shall. We can discuss the best date to ask another time." He closes the box and tucks them both away, he grabs your left hand, fingers ghosting over the bracelet he gave you, "You seem tired, you should get some rest."

"I believe that to be a grand idea." You say softly as he kisses each knuckle. He squeezes your fingers.

"My life would be dark without you my Starlight." You fight to keep the bitterness out of your voice as you reply.

"Soon you will have a shining diamond to light up your life."

"Only thanks to you." With that he takes his leave.

With burning eyes you add to your manuscript, foolishly writing a love story as your other novels have been completed. The candle dwindles as the hours pass before your hunched shoulders ache from the poor posture and lack of movement. You stretch, yawning as you do before you decide to head to bed.

Expecting an empty foyer you are surprised to see your father looming in the hall, your mother standing solemn by his side. Her fingers clutch at her pearls as your eyes catch sight of bags at their feet. It is not unusual for them to leave in the middle of the night in order to keep the severity of your mother's health from the limelight.

"Is there troubling news?" Anxiety twitches in your fingers as you clasp them together. Although your father's next words make your fingers want to wrap around his thick neck.

"We have been invited for an extended stay at Duke Enji's manner in the countryside in hopes the two of you will court one another."

"Father that is scandalous in itself."

"Not if an engagement comes of it. Which one will, whether you fall for him or not, young lady. The matter has been decided among the men." His words sting like a slap in the face. Where most would cry you lash out.

"Oh, I get it. Per usual the men can think with nothing more than what hangs between their legs, fearful that theirs is not long enough. So the men do all that they can to control everything but their own fragility." You step towards your father and he takes a step back, "Or is it more gruesome than that? One blackmailing the other? I just cannot imagine the ambitious Duke wanting a Baron's daughter for his son. Unless his family is so far in decline he must place the weight on his new heir and bride."

His eyes widen unnaturally before he is frothing at the mouth.

"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK OUT OF TURN. YOU WILL LEARN YOUR DAMN PLACE. " He slaps you, causing a hush to fall over your family. Your eyes are wide with animalistic rage as you lunge only for Hendrix and Hideki to hold you back. Both strong men begin dragging you away.

"Forgive her, Father." Hendrix starts before Hideki finishes, "You know how the heat gives women a touch of hysteria."

"We will help her pack her bags."

All the while your mother looks at her husband in horror. The sight falls beneath the stairs before you are shoved onto your bed.

"Sister!" Hendrix roars while the youngest brother looks flustered, worried, "What were you thinking? You know how closed minded father is."

Hideki cuts the eldest a look before he adds.

"We are just worried. Normally you keep your wrath at bay."

"As much as it may come as a surprise. I am only human." You rise from the bed asking Rose to prepare you a trunk. To pack anything, that you did not care as you sat at your desk furiously writing. Your bothers watch you with curious eyes as the tension seems to subside before they take their leave.

Minutes tick by before you're standing in the foyer. Father and mother were already sitting in the carriage that waited outside under the cover of misty rain. Hendrix and Hideki stand awkwardly by the round table in the middle of the foyer. Pretending to fuss over lavish flowers Lord Bakugou had sent that morning. A beautiful arrangement of roses and hydrangeas, two of your favorites, the Lord knew of them through observation alone. You wait patiently until one brother makes eye contact with you. Hideki breaks first, guilt shining in his eyes as it threatens to spill over. It is obvious he does not want you to leave the house, his normally crooked smile falters. You cup his cheek, smiling up at your sentimental younger brother, he acts as if you will never come back.

Maybe there is some truth in that.

"Cry not, for I have an iron will while father's is but made of glass." You swipe the tear, before pressing two letters into his chest, "Besides I have an important task for you."

"Is it your scheming?" Hendrix chides and you laugh in answer before continuing.

"These are for Lord Bakugou and Lord Kirishima, it is imperative you deliver these letters." The paper contained important instructions for not only a successful proposal but a marriage as well.

You'd be damned if all three of you would turn out miserable.

"I'll put them in the post."

"No hand deliver them." Your eyes turn icy causing both brothers to go rigid, "And should I find out the seal has been broken before their arrival I shall take the family jewels from between your legs."

"Is that any way for a lady to talk, my dearest sister?" A jest in an attempt to lighten your souring mood.

"Yes, it is."

"They will be in their hands by this evening. We are wagering on a fight tonight. Enjoy your stay." Hideki leans in close with a tease but his voice almost cracks, "Make sure the rock is huge."

"Indeed." Hendrix agrees with an almost sad look in his eye, leaving you to wonder what it is that they know and you do not.

Well, you do know why they have such long faces, you just do not care to admit. You wave to them and their eyes catch on the silvery reflection of diamonds on your wrist.

The manner is stifling to say the least. The large, grand thing is as your trunk is set in your room that overlooks a small garden and the long sweeping hill that leads home. You pace your room before a knock comes at your door.

Hoping to ignore it, having not the desire to speak to a soul, your feet quiet. You listen for them to retreat but instead a louder knock sounds out. Before his grating voice floats from beneath the door and through the keyhole.

"I know you are in there, my lady."

Ugh, that stupid doctor stood on the other side of the door. Still you ignore him.

"It is rude to ignore your host." It ignites something in your stomach before you rip the door open. Eyes ablaze as Todoroki stands perfectly still in his onyx black suit sans jacket. White sleeves rolled up showcasing his strong forearms.

"Surely, a good host would not force his guests to his estate?"

"A good host would not mention how unwanted their guest is." His smile is sickeningly polite, eyes as cold as yours. It is hard to keep your composure as you breathe in deeply through your nose, eyes widening before you slam the door in his face.

Only once you hear his footfalls retreat and the moon shines long on your floor boards do you finally make your way towards the door. A woman on a mission as you yank the door open, uncaring that you were not in much but a thick white nightgown that could be mistaken for a dress. You rush for the stairs and through the door just off their back parlor, having memorized it from the long winded tour both your father and his Grace Enji insisted the small party take of the grounds.

A cool summer breeze whips your hair this way and that as it dries the sweat that sits at your nape. Normally people would describe this feeling as miserable, that even the breeze had a bit of heat to it, but you.

You lived for it. Twirling in the moonlight you allow yourself a moment for vulnerability you often cannot afford before you go deeper on the grounds, closer to the woods that lie just beyond the manor.

Once you are at the edge you give the grand home a glare with your back towards the woods. The creatures of the night sing their symphonies well into the late hour. A twig snaps behind you cause you to turn about face, your eyes meet with lavender framed beneath light lashes.

Ice runs through your blood as you faintly recall him speaking of these trees by his own countryside manor. He often went to these grounds to hunt.

So why was he standing on the Todoroki grounds?

"So it is true?" Monoma chokes out an ugly sound. It is between defeat and a snarl. He takes a step closer, "Whisked away in the night. Did Todoroki steal your maiden head from me?"

Your eyes widen at his scandalous accusation and it is then you see how truly disheveled he is. Hair plastered to his forehead, his canary suit stained green from foliage. The fabric even darkening beneath his armpits and at his collar, it sends a sort of frantic look to his eye. He steps forward and for once in your life you yield, stepping back.

"That is a damning accusation." You fight to keep the cracking rage from your voice, the small fear that blooms in your belly like poison nightshade. Swallowing thickly he steps forward.

"He, he can't take what's mine. I- I was going to propose today. But that damn Bakugou is always lingering around like toxic gas. Poisoning your mind with his….ambitions." It is then you see red.

How dare anyone thing you were so fucking fragile and innocent some young blonde could corrupt you. Your palm strikes his cheek with enough force that he is facing away from you. You strike again and then as you rear up your fist he pulls you to him. Pressing his whisky soaked lips to yours as he swallows you whole. Mouth extended over your lips, sloppily engulfing you as he makes sounds that make you want to retch. His tongue slides past your lips and you bite.

Not enough that he loses it, although you wish you could afford to do such a thing. But you still lived in a society where a man's word was far more valuable than that of a "whore." Shaking you pull back, so much rage that you do not see the flash of light until it is too late.

"Fucking bitch!" He slashes at your nightgown, cutting the fabric away as you think you've doged, he goes to slash again, "God damn whore!"

His voice echoes through the trees and that scares you more than the knife in his hand, his sloppy demnor creates an opening as you kick him so hard between his legs he falls to the ground, puking up his belly full of liquor onto the moss floor.

Suddenly the summer night is too hot, the frogs and crickets too loud as an owl calls deep within the wood. Thunder roars overhead before the clouds become too heavy. Panic slicks your skin before the pounding rain as you turn to run, hopping you kicked hard enough to rupture something in this cowardly man.

If you lived in any other world, you would have tried your best to seize that knife and plunge it into his chest.

But you didn't, so you ran. Vision blurring as the pain finally catches up to you. Hand instinctively flying to your stomach only to come up wet.

"It's the rain, it's just the rain." You gasp out rushing into the house and shutting the glass paned door as quickly and quietly as you can. Fumbling for a lock before you give up all together, arms outstretched in the dim room looking for a candle or a mirror. Shaking fingers find a match that you light using the wallpaper, uncaring of the risks as you frantically look for a stick of wax. Lighting the wick once you've found one and taking it to the mirror above a small runner table. You set the wax down, close to the glass, thunder shakes the windows and the house as you pull the fabric from your torso. It reveals an angry red slash that weeps crimson, a choked gasp leaves your lips as lightning flashes illuminating the whole room. Still you do not see the reflection of the man in the mirror.

"What happened?" It sounds animalistic as it comes from the corner. Your whirl to face him, pulling the cloth back down to cover your decency. A lie falls from your lips as easy as breath.

"Nothing." Your rasp, feigning embarrassment, "My-my courses have come early. Your Grace this is not something you should witness."

"Do you take me for a fool?" He steps closer, eyes burning in the candle light, "I may not be an expert of female anatomy but I know the basics."

You swallow thickly, trying to jest.

"Then my Lord you are far more experienced than myself. I am bashful to be in the presence of a skilled womanizer. This truly is nothing." He closes the distance, wrapping his deadly hand around your small wrist. Pulling it away from your body.

"That laceration does not look like 'nothing'." He mocks, "I will not ask again."

Silence engulfs you as the storm rages on, it competes with the roaring in your head. Your knees slowly buckle as Shoto keeps you up right. His winter's night by the hearth scent floods your senses.

"I feel a bit faint." Your voice sounds so small, so far away that it stirs something in Todoroki. In the year that he has watched you, he has not once seen your falter or become meek. He makes way to scoop you into your arms and is a mixed of relieved and agitated as you swat him away.

"I-I can walk." You straighten your back, smoothing the reddening fabric over your bodess and for once you're thankful the blasted nightgown is so thick. He gently guides you to your room.

Once there he prepares a basin as you try to sit on the plush bed.

"Aht!" He whispers harshly, "Change."

You relax into the foot of the bed anyway, unable to hold yourself up right any longer. He sucks his teeth, bringing the supplies to the bedside table before searching through your trunk.

"A Lady's things should not just be rummaged through."

"Hmm is that so?" He finds another night gown before he hovers over you, face pinched as he asks, "Can you undress yourself, truthfully?"

Moments pass before you admit that you are not sure that you can with a shake of your head. Slowly he eases you out of the damp fabric, dabbing at your wet skin with a towel. He avoids looking at your breasts and as much as he would love to stare a weeping wound commands his attention. He places the gown just enough to hide your breasts before he lies you down on your back.

"From beginning to end, tell me what happened." When you do not answer he forces your chin to face him, "Tell me, now."

And your name slips off his lips like poisoned honey, a truth serum you swallow whole. You retell the quick exchange, including the damning kiss as you watch rage blister across Shoto's handsome features as he silently begins to work.

"We must prosecute him."

"We must not!" You exclaim as he dabs antiseptic at your wound. He gives your an exasperated

"What would have happened if he had nicked an internal organ?"

"I suppose I would be free of this wretched world." A nonchalant shrug as best as you can manage.a glare cuts your way as his roar turns soft.

"Why would you say such a thing? Do you think no one would mourn the loss of you? Do you think he would not weep at your service?" Shoto touches the bracelet of dancing stars and you pull your wrist back. Tears burning your eyes, you do not allow them to fall.

"He is not up for discussion!" It's a loud whisper before you grip Shoto's jaw with enough force it grinds, "I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Lord. You can take your leave as I do not need a soul."

He melts as he watches the pain flutter in your eyes, a long sigh escapes him as he melts into your touch. His fingers feathering over your forearm.

"Pride is a deadly sin. Allow me to help. I will be quick." Slowly you drop your arm away from him. He digs around in his bag before you change your mind. He disinfects the sutures before he sends the needle through tender flesh, your tears dry as you allow your mind to retreat. Shoto takes quick notice.

"You do that a lot…" He comments softly, pulling the suture through your skin, you glance his way, "You seem to disassociate."

"Well, feelings hurt so it is better to not feel at all." You grind your teeth as he pulls the widest part of your wound together.

"Is that why you push him away so often?" He holds your gaze before returning to his work.

"Did I not tell you that he is not up for discussion. No matter, I do not have feelings for Lord Bakugou." He scoffs at your lie.

"Ah so then it was not you who suggested the Princess in the form of flattery? Lord Bakugou is a smart man but you played into his blind spot, stroking his ego and enticing his ambition." Your gritted teeth say it all.

"And how pray tell would you even guess at such grandor things when you are not in attendance at even half of these events?"

"I am privy to this knowledge because I too keep everyone and everything at arm's length. It is much easier to see the moves when one is far enough away from the board." He dabs at your abdomen, "And you my Lady are by far the best player."

"Flattery does not go far with me." You sigh softly, fingers idly playing with the wrinkles in the sheets, "Father wants me to set a final round."

"Mine wishes for me to begin and end in the same turn." He slowly places your nightgown down, "Which is why we should make an effort to at least get to know one another. With your wound I suggest staying an extra week or two to ensure it closes properly. I can convince our Wardens that the extension is for an attempt to win your hand."

He leans back in his chair, sweat on his brow from fusing with your wound, from worry as it furrows. Your chest tightens and suddenly the urge to be in control sinks its teeth into your skin. Quickly you unclasp the birthday present Lord Katsuki had given you, setting it on the nightstand beside Shoto with dramatic flare. His eyes widen as he reads between the lines, the silent vow of "I will make an effort...for now". The promise seems to pierce his heart.

"Fine. I enjoy picnics, I suggest we do that on the grounds so that we may be chaperoned from afar and yet have privacy. My expectation is unbashful honesty from both parties." You turn over to give him your back as you pull the fine blankets to your shoulders, "Furthermore you must come up with some sort of endearment for me. Anyone who has ever tried to seriously court me has. I have come quite fond of them as titles bore me. Something lovely so give it thought."

Shoto is stunned into silence for a moment before he lets out a dark laugh.

"I see, this is still your game"

"Precisely." You say, he stands, lingering in the doorway before shutting the heavy oak.

It was difficult to sleep to say the least. Still you were grateful to have risen before Rose. Dressing yourself before she could see your wound. More grateful still when Rose set down some tea claiming Lord Shoto sent it.

You downed the scalding liquid in three swallows, surprising Rose, before she passes you a folded note.

Meet me in the back garden for lunch.

-Shoto

A muscle ticks in your jaw as pain blooms across your stomach as you stare at his lovely script.

Shoto hates to admit that the first thing he looks for is that bracelet on your wrist, when he does not see it he lets out his held breath. Drinking in your deep, sapphire dress. It sparkles as if covered in stardust, his heart clenches. He looks towards your stomach, worry etched on his features.

"How are your stitches? No corset right?" He asks, gently guiding you to the plush pillows on the ground. Maybe he should have asked the butler to bring out chairs instead.

"I feel naked without it." You admit, he sees a bit of nervousness you have normally schooled away.

"You look lovely." His eyes are gentle, lips formed in a soft, genuine smile. Your heart tried to skip a beat. It's the heat you tell yourself.

"Flattery will not get you far remember?"

"I'm only being honest, my sweet petunia." You give him a puzzled look, was this going to be his nickname for you? You were not a delicate thing.

"A flower?" You give him a look but his smile does not falter.

"Ah would you rather I say my dew kissed rose? My begonia?"

You both laugh at his last suggestion.

"My sunflower." Your heart stutters, you glance away for just a moment and he takes notice.

"Ah so you approve," He collects a strand of your hair between his fingertips, "Sunflower?"

Heat rushes your cheeks as you fight the smile on your lips. You lose as he kisses your hair. Maybe you could be a delicate thing.

"Did you know sunflowers can remediate soil? It is why they are planted after tobacco is harvested in hopes to use the fields once more." He is quiet as he waits for your admission.

"It is my favorite flower, it is in season now. Alas not one suitor has sent them. Roses and hydrangeas are my favorites too but nothing quite says summer like a sunflower." You sigh, looking over the manicured bushes and flowers in the garden.

"Is that your favorite season?" He is perceptive, you take a moment to breathe in the sweltering breeze with closed eyes. Humming your answer.

"Indeed." You kick off your shoes and place your feet into the grass, leaning back to allow your face in the sun. Not many women would be so open to sitting on only a blanket and with no umbrella or covering. And yet here you were soaking up the sun like a lazy cat. Heat rushes Shoto's cheeks as he realizes just how perfect his name for you is.

"Have you ever had intercourse with a woman?" You ask, eyes still closed as Shoto flushes further. His cheeks are as red as part of his hair.

"Sunflower." He gasps but you giggle.

"Unbashful honesty, remember?" He lets small silence stretch between the two of you before he answers.

"I have. My brother convinced me it was a good idea." His eyes look sad, it makes your gut clench as you look away for a moment. Question burning on your tongue.

"What if I were to say my maiden head was taken?"

"Who am I to judge after I have slept with another. Sadly I know some are stolen." He answers without hesitation.

"This is true. Mine is still intact, I am grateful Monoma had only stolen a kiss." You sigh.

"You'd never kissed anyone?" His tone is curious although his eyes are dark with anger for you.

"I tried to be a proper lady. More so because I do not like to touch people or feel their skin. Touching them makes them real, you know? And when someone is real they can have power over your heart." Shoto mulls over your words and realizes how much he relates. He places his hands near your fingers but does not touch them. You notice the gesture and scoff without the pretension you skillfully lace his fingers with his. Delighted to see the burning blush on his cheeks.

Maybe life with Shoto would not be half bad, if only he gave you more moments like this.

Moments like this last over the two weeks that drag into three. Days are spent beneath the summer sun with exchanged and often heated, intellectual debates. Both of you feeling mentally stimulated for the first time as each of you allowed a few walls to come down, pulling each other closer than arm's length. While a few hours of the night are spent beneath the moon. His gem stone eyes raking over your abdomen in worry but nothing more than his checking on your wound as he was ever the gentlemen.

On Monday of the second week Shoto has come fond of his summer sunflower, so much so he brings a large black box to the next picnic, tucked away in his pocket is a matching, much smaller box. He presents to you the medium sized box as you giggle in delight.

"My Lord, my shining Shoto. What could this be?" Your cheeks hurt from the width of your smile as he opens the box for you to see. Your face flutters into shock before joy returns as you hold out your wrist. Shoto takes the delicate golden bracelet that has several round onyx surrounded by citrine in the shape of petals. Sunflowers dance on your wrist as you twist it this way and that, unable to school your features into your normal distaste for guadry gifts from suitors. But this gift was far from gaudy, only one man before Shoto had earned this reaction. You bring your parasol to hide your face and his from the prying eyes of the manor as you gently press your lips to Shoto's cheeks.

"I love it." You admit. It gives him enough courage to commit to ask you on Friday, the bigger question.

Having you walk for "therapy" through the grounds, pointing over your shoulder to point out phantom ducks on the lake as he nervously sinks to one knee.

"Shoto, love I do not see-" You turn to face him and see his loving eyes, wavering smile and shaking fingers holding open the box that reveals a giant oval ruby surrounded by diamonds. He clears his throat.

"My sunflower," You fling your arms around him, making him fall off balance as you land on top of him. Peppering his face with uncharacteristic kisses as excitement, for once, rushes through your veins like a second blood. He laughs lifting you by your ribs, careful of your slowly closing wound as he spins you before setting you on your feet. He fumbles for the momentarily forgotten ring before he slips it onto your ring finger. He presses a kiss to your cheek, smiling warmly. It reaches his eyes in such a way your gut clenches.

And for a moment you forgot you were ever anyone's starlight.

For one returning to the manor seems almost dreadful and not because of waiting suitors but because you would be without your own. He insisted the two of you be seperate as your mother and his, prepared to arrange the wedding, as you demanded the ceremony to be small. Despite your desire for to keep the engagement quiet for just a week or so, your mother and father took it upon themselves to spread word back home before you could even arrive.

You exit the carriage as the house looks quiet, earning a soft smile. Your ring catches your eye and you remind yourself that this truly was the best possible outcome.

The foyer is covered in flowers, from congratulations to a giant trove of sunflowers on the center table.

You smile at the flowers Shoto must have sent this morning, they sit in a glass globe of a vase, their usually tall stems cut short. Their flower heads are large and vibrant even in the ambient candle light. You finger a petal as you reminisce over the past few weeks, your stomach hardly protesting as you stand on tip toe to look at them all. Relishing the moment of silence before you realize you are most likely home alone. Your brothers lost in some fighting match while your parents took their leave from the Todoroki manor to busy themselves with venues. You figured a change of clothes would do you nicely before you settled down over your much neglected work.

A black nightgown and almost sheer robe clung to your frame as you stepped down the grand staircase, smiling once more at the flowers before slipping into your parlor. Lighting only one other candle by the door before taking yours to your desk. With deft hands you pull out one of your manuscripts and tap along the top with a manicured nail. A sigh leaves your lips, you finger with your bracelet, with the ring on your finger before a fresh page is found on your desk. You write furiously.

About something as trivial as love.

Still the quil seems to move on its own as if enchanted as words dot the parchment in ink. Suddenly your work is disturbed by someone entering your parlor. You assume it is a brother who has come home, glancing up you see locks of ash blonde causing you to grip at your robe to close it tighter. The moment you realize it is just Bakugou your grip on the fabric loosens.

"I wasn't expecting you at this hour." Fear of needing a chaperone barely crosses your mind since it was Lord Bakugou who was your company. You relax into your seat as he crosses the room to sit in his normal seat, on the corner of the couch, closest to you. His posture is poor as he leans his forearms on thick thighs, garnet eyes cast downward, he grips at his own hands as his knuckles turn white. You wonder if he did not heed your letter.

"How did the proposal go with Princess Amelia?" Your voice sounds out over the silence of the room, still he remains quiet. It is unnerving how solemn and silent the normally wolfish man is. Something pulls at the strings of your heart. His eyes seem misty. He keeps them to the ground or so you think, as they rake over the ring on your finger, on the bracelet on your wrist. The onyx and citrine dance in the low light of your burning candle. Bakugou feels a sheen of sweat coat his hands, bile rising in his throat that he has to swallow down.

You think the worst, you think the Princess rejected him but that didn't make sense either. She was so obviously in love with the ambitious man, you heard while away that she even turned down a dance with a forgein prince.

"What's wrong, Katsuki?" The way your voice forms around his name, the way your eyes look with unbiased worry causes Katsuki's limbs to act on their own. In one swift motion he cups your face in his broad hands, bringing his lips to yours so softly. Once the plush of your lips touch his he cannot stop as his hunger for you comes to the forefront. He kisses you with a fervor unmatched as his lips move yours, his hand moves to the back of your neck. Tilting your head so he may deepen the kiss, tongue sliding over yours as the world falls from beneath your feet.

But as quickly as it fell it returns, pushing him away while turning to face away from him. You keep your head held high as he pants on the couch beside you. He grabs your thigh, desperate for touch, for anything but rejection.

"Starlight." His voice is deep, rough from what might be disuse as it cracks on the second syllable. A question runs rampid in your mind. How long had he felt like this?

"Please, my starlight." He squeezes your smooth thigh and you look towards him. Watch his force contort with pain, as if you held his beating heart in his hands and crushed it.

Really it is what he had done to you, as you look down at him with hot tears.

He is the first and only soul to see you cry in decades. It seemingly tears him about but he brought this among himself.

The kiss is answer enough as to why he is here.

It should not be this tempting to throw it all away.

"Get. Out." You seethe, fat droplets catching on your sheer robe, falling down your cheeks as if you were an actress going through a tragic scene. He does not move, does not breathe as he hopes your temper will cool.

Instead it heats.

"Get out, Get OUT. GET OUT GET OUT!!" More composure lost with each increase of volume before you completely lose it, "FUCKING GET OUT!"

He hardly moves and the ruckus calls alarm for your brothers who were home, who let Bakugou in at such a late hour. They come from the office across the hall in hurried steps, expecting to see an assailant, hoping that Bakugou could fight them off.

They silently determine what they see is far worse. Bakugou gripping at your thighs with this pleading look while your face is now firmly buried in your hands. A sob racks through your body setting your brothers ablaze.

Hendrix speaks first.

"What did you do?!" His eyes are flaming as he sets them on Bakugou, who ignores the two men. Hideki begins to close the distance and his eldest brother follows suit.

"What have you done to make my lovely sister cry?" Hideki's voice is full of hurt, disappointment and when they receive no answer they decide it is time to remove your true assailant.

Both grab at Bakugou, pulling him away from the couch as you wet your palms with years worth of tears.

Everything in your life, no matter how hard you tried to conduct it, was truly wrong wasn't it?

The fresh swirling ink on the pages answered you enough, the love story you did not know you needed with a protagonist with soft ash blonde hair.

"Please. Do not make me BEG!" He yells as your brothers' sad attempt at forcing him from the room topples furniture and the like.

Still you weep your self pity away.

His next words are deafening as your heart finally cleaves apart, the pieces falling to the floor before shattering like glass at your feet. He brandishes the black velvet box with the black diamond ring tucked inside as you finally look up to him.

"IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN YOU, STARLIGHT!"

#bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha historical au #bnha imagine #bnha x reader

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occassionalfanficwriter · 3 years

Note

Heyhey! May I request childe x reader where the reader has been badly abused in the past? As a result she doesn’t mind when childe kidnaps her because childe has never hurt her, and treats her nicely? So since childe has work lmao he leaves a fatui agent to watch his s/o. But since his s/o has such a small appetite she doesn’t eat much. And since the fatui agent has a bad temper, what if he slaps her across the jaw so hard it breaks? So since then she can’t handle leaving childe’s side?Thank you

anon who hurt you? (•ω•`)this childe has yandere undertones but anyways you're welcome and enjoy.

Content warning for everyone else: allusions to domestic violence ,and non-graphic depiction of violence against women.

No Misfortune Without Blessings

Summary: Among the many myths about Tartaglia, few were dedicated to his love life. Even fewer dared to speak of the gentle love between him and his lady but in the soft and hushed whispers of the crowd, all would admit that they painted a pretty picture.

There was a boy.

You weren’t quite sure what to make of him. Shy and stuttering but with bright blue eyes that reminds you of the starry sky in the village. You liked him, in the same way you liked the morbid stories and descriptions of the adventurers in the tavern. You liked him too, in the same way you liked the rare flowers that grew in Snezhnayan winter.

And maybe the boy with the starry sky in his eyes and bright red hair liked you too. But it wasn’t something you paid attention to, there were stories and adventures to be had, knowledge to be shared and you decided it was more important.

More important than understanding what everyone your age liked or what accounted for normal. You never did quite understand everyone else in the same way you immediately understood Ajax. It was precisely because of this that you simply didn’t quite fit in, you were just as much of an outcast as Ajax was with his shyness and occasional stutter. You didn’t care for it, you found comfort in the knowledge you’d never be involved in messy affairs of the romantic and platonic kind.

Your world was peaceful.

There was Ajax, the stories from adventurers, and your hidden desire for something more beyond what the small seaside town you call home had to offer.

There used to be a boy with bright blue eyes that takes your breath away sometimes. Who had a burning red hair and warm smile that reminded you of the warm sunshine.

You loved to follow him around, notebook in hand filled with scribbles and experiments of different shorts. And Ajax loved you, perhaps, with the way he took you along for adventures on the edges of the woods, in the frozen lake, and taking small commissions from the neighbors.

The two of you had grown taller, childhood fat turning into muscles as your bodies hit puberty. Both of you had changed in so many ways, gone were the days when no one minded the two of you staying out together for a long period of time, without any companion. Whispers followed when the two of you held each other just a bit too long for what was appropriate.

Your world could not simply consist of Ajax and the growing longing you had for what the world had to offer. You didn’t like the change, neither of you two did. But you were much better at pretending than Ajax, so you studied and observed the rest, told this to Ajax and somehow the restrictions on you two became a big game of pretend. You pretended to understand the beauty that others found, pretended to fit in the scale of accepted normalcy.

And then, without you noticing the boy you loved dearly was gone. You stared blankly as you watched his parents cry and search parties used for a boy lost in the woods.

There used to be a boy and you weren’t quite sure what to make of him when he came back to you three months later.

You weren’t quite sure when it started, when your world expanded and collapsed until the only things left are the ashes of things you don’t quite recognize. You weren’t quite sure when you stopped yearning for a life of adventure. When you began to settle for whatever it was that was given to you.

Maybe it was when the boy you loved came back with dull blue eyes and a sharp look that told stories only the hardened and veteran adventurers understood. Maybe it was when you could no longer keep up with him, when trouble seeks him out and your parents dragged you away from him.

Maybe it was when one night he sneaks into your room bids you goodbye and makes you realize that the stars in his eyes never left, they were just clouded by something brighter and bigger than whatever it was that Morepesok had to offer.

Maybe it was when you woke up the next day and the boy you loved was taken away into a brighter and bigger place than the small sea-side village.

But that didn’t matter now, not when your whole body hurt and you laid limp on the cold wooden floors of the place that should be home but isn’t. You weren’t quite sure when you accepted this as normal, when the man your parents swore would take care of you became the one who hurt you. You weren’t quite sure when you started to forget all of that you loved dearly.

“...it hurts” you say out loud as tears prick on the edges of your eyes and you simply lay on the floor, ignoring the pain on your ribs, the blood on your mouth and countless other bruises that littered your skin.

You don’t recognize yourself anymore.

And you hate yourself for it.

You think of the boy you loved who had stars in his eyes and the sun in his soul and you yearn for him and what could have been.

There was a man with a charming smile and blue eyes, and the mask of the Harbingers. You weren’t quite sure what to think of him when he held your hand gently, and spoke to you about topics you used to love.

You weren’t quite sure what it meant when his eyes grew cold at the bruises on your skin and the whispers that followed you. Maybe you loved him, in the same way you loved Ajax, and the man you lived with. Maybe you loved him in the same way you loved the preserved heart in a jar that used to be yours.

There were a lot of maybes but you were sure that Tartaglia would never hurt you. The day he takes you away felt like a fairy tale, as if the boy you loved came back for you but you knew that Ajax was gone. And Tartaglia was the one who came for you so you stupidly went along with him.

You gave him your everything.

You gave him the tattered pieces of what could have been you, and allowed him to reshape you, until you were stronger than before. You relearned how to be human, how to be yourself, and you loved him for it. You learned how to speak his own love language, stayed by his side and accepted all of him until you weren’t sure where you ended and where he began.

Somehow, you stupidly believed that all of this would remain as it was. Until he had to leave for a long while and you can’t help but feel as if your world would collapse.

“Don’t go” you whispered as you held onto his clothes like a child.

“Don’t leave me” you begged as you shrink your frame and tried to fight the fear of being hated for something like this.

“I’m sorry” Tartaglia tells you, voice soft and gentle as he hugs you tenderly.

You want to cry but you don’t because you had always understood that he was meant for bigger and brighter things. Instead you sank in his chest, you wanted to imprint yourself in him, so that no matter how bright and beautiful the world outside of this home you built was, he’d never forget about you.

“Come back quickly.”

“I’ll be back before you even miss me.”

You don’t tell him that you’ve already begun missing him.

You never bothered to get along with Tartaglia’s subordinates. Not when you decided to ignore anything Fatui related since it meant that Tartaglia would never have to worry about you being used against him. You refused to be a burden.

This ignorance meant that despite treating them civilly you had no deep impression on them. It meant that when none of Tartaglia’s trusted aides were available to watch you and take care of whatever your needs were, some new recruit was given to you.

You didn’t care about it much. The new recruits tend to be distant and careful upon knowing who you were to Tartaglia. You didn’t care about what they called you behind your back. What mattered was Tartaglia and his thoughts.

Your heart was too small to include irrelevant matters.

Maybe if you learned how to be human properly, you would have realized the danger you were in. An upstart recruit from a noble lineage coupled with a bad temper would never be suited to your cold and distant attitude. The snark and biting remarks you ignored only added fuel to a fire you weren’t aware of.

You were too busy counting the days until Tartaglia’s return to pay attention to someone you found insignificant.

“You didn’t finish your food again” The recruit complained.

“Feed it to the dogs or whatever” you answered dismissing him with a wave of hand as you drank your water.

No one would care if you ate less than usual. Tartaglia would only ask if anything was wrong and you’d be quick to assure him that it was nothing. You knew that he would overthink and his subordinates would pay for it.

It was best for all parties that his mood remained good. You didn’t want others interfering with your time with him and you were quite sure that after the glamour of sparring with him faded off, his men had no want of being beaten to the ground.

This thought that you believed to be true made you blind. It made you let your guard down when malice was directed at you and you found yourself suddenly on the ground.

The harsh sound of your jaw breaking echoing loudly as you stared blankly on the marble tiles of the dining room. Somehow it felt like you were back in that place, and you could hear shouting and swearing around you.

‘I’m stronger than this’ You thought as you tried to force your body to move.

‘I’m stronger than this!’ You stubbornly insisted as your body remained frozen in the ground.

‘I’M STRONGER THAN THIS!’ You screamed inside your head as you felt like you were drowning again. You couldn’t breathe and you could no longer see anything.

The next thing you saw was Tartaglia on your bedside, asleep and visibly worse for wear. You stood up, opening your mouth only to quickly stop at the dull pain you felt. You could only stare at him with longing. The room was dark and only lit by the moonlight that seeped in through the windows.

You reached out for him, three soft squeezes on his hand as you gingerly kissed his calloused hand. You could tell that he was already awake and you waited for him to open his bright blue eyes that took your breath away.

“I won’t leave you alone anymore” Tartaglia says with sadness in his voice as he cradles you in his lap. You closed your eyes and tapped his lips thrice.

‘I love you’.

There was a girl with bright curious eyes that seemed to see through him. Ajax couldn’t keep his stutter out as he shyly introduced himself.

He loved her at first sight.

He loved her more when she took his hand and showed him interesting stuff. Each moment spent with her was an adventure. He loved the spark in her eyes when she talked about the nations beyond Snezhnaya.

He loved her eccentricities and never wanted her to change. But Ajax knew that if he remained as he was, he would never be able to keep her by his side.

The girl he loved yearned for something bigger and brighter than Morepesok and Ajax wanted to give it to her with his own two hands.

There used to be a girl with bright eyes and rarely smiled but could take his breath away when she smiled at him. Who loved all sorts of things without any care, who loved him in the same way she loved the animals they came across.

She was bright and warm and Ajax knew that she was destined for bigger things. That she was meant to explore the world beyond the sea and Ajax wanted to take her away and give her the greatest adventure.

He wanted her world to be made up of him, their adventures, and everything she loved. But the Abyss had no place for gentle dreams and soft loves. So he fought and fought until he realized his dream and set out for something bigger and brighter than him.

‘I want to give her the world’ Ajax whispered in the silence of the night as he fought for his life and then for fun.

He thought of the girl he loved who walked among the stars and he yearned for her. The Abyss had no room for the weak so he hid away what he could and threw away what he couldn’t for the sake of growing strong and paving the way for the girl he loved.

He came back and found solace in the stupid girl that didn’t understand everything yet. He protected her innocence even as she stared at his blood stained hands. He protected her soft and loving heart even as he felt his being torn apart.

He wanted to keep her by his side but he had always been the better fighter. She was better at pretending but she could never bring herself to fight back mercilessly. So he decided to fight for the two of them.

The Fatui was like the Abyss but it could never reach the harshness and brutality of a place seeped in desperation. He hid his heart away, keeping it with the girl he loved who cried for him. He fought his way up the ranks and thought of the girl he loved.

He thought of her as he took missions upon missions, thinking of her soft lips and sweet tears that made him want to take her with him. But he wasn’t strong enough to protect her yet so he leaves her behind, promising to return to her once more.

There used to be a girl who seemed to like she could take the world by storm.

There used to be a boy who loved her secretly and openly.

Now there was a woman whose light was dying, bright eyes dulled and heart trampled upon.

Now there was a man named Tartaglia whose heart burned and raged for those that dared to hurt the woman he loved.

He takes her away, leaves no traces and keeps her far away from the burnt down house that used to be her childhood home. He keeps her by his side and gives her pieces of the world.

Tartaglia with his bloodstained hands gently and lovingly held her in his arms as he dealt with the recruit. It was brutal and inhumane but all of his humanity was meant for the girl he loved and his family.

He gives her the best doctor and waits for her to wake up.

Thrice he made the mistake of leaving her behind.

‘This time, no matter what, I’ll keep you by my side.’

Among the myths about Tartaglia few were dedicated to the lady he always took along with him, be it in the battlefield or anywhere else. It was rumored that she was as gentle as Liyue’s glaze lilies, and as deadly as the ruin guards that littered across Teyvat.

But one thing was constant, where Tartaglia goes the lady follows. A warrior and his lady dominating battle fields across Teyvat.

There would be no surprise if one day the entire world fell at their feet.

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere childe x reader #genshin impact childe x reader #genshin impact x reader

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foilfreak · 3 years

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4 Lords Raise Rose AU Ideas

Not a single person asked for this, but that other post where I talk about the 4 lords adopting Rose but still technically being terrible people got way more popular than I expected it to, so, with about 6 shots of tequila in my system and a terrible urge to spit my thoughts out for all the internet to see and judge, I’ve decided to make a follow up post. Here’s how I think the 4 lords would take care of Rose in the event they rebelled against Mother Miranda and decided to raise Rose as their own instead, but like under the cut after a little bit cuz i accidentally went way too fucking hard with this and I don’t want ppl to get mad at me for making them scroll for an hour to get past this post:

First and foremost, I think they’d do it in stages, and what I mean by this is that Rose would essentially be given to a specific Lord for some period of her life, like a couple years, and then when she was deemed old or strong or annoying enough, she’d be moved to a different lord for some period of time and so on and so forth. They would do this because a) they all live in different areas and have shit to do so it’s easier to have Rose live with one lord at a time and then the other lords can just go visit her there from time to time, rather than try to work out a weekly custody schedule which we all know Alcina and Karl would NEVER be able to agree on so let’s not even bother, and b) because each lord would have either some skill or set of knowledge that would make them the best for caring for Rose at that specific point in her life. This way, all the lords have a (somewhat) equal chance to be a part of Rose’s life and teach her something while she’s with them. So with all that in mind now, let’s get down to who would have Rose and at what point in her life.

1. Starting off with infant Rose, I think she’d end up with the Dimitrescu’s for the first few years of her life, and the reason why I think this is because... well, Alcina IS already a mother to 3 girls, and while we don’t know a terrible amount about Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela’s “upbringing” under Alcina, we can gleam and theorize from her notes that, despite their fully grown bodies, the girls could very well have started out with the mental and physical capabilities of infants, and thus needed to be cared for and brought up in a similar manner as infants or children until they reached a certain point where they could officially be considered adults in mentality and ability, not just in physical appearance. So with this in mind, it’s entirely possible that Alcina could have at least some vague idea of how to care for an infant child through her experiences with the bug sisters; perhaps there’s some gaps in her knowledge, but if nothing else I imagine Alcina would be an infant Rose’s best shot at surviving infancy if only because the other 3 are so incompetent on how to care for a baby that Alcina looks like an expert in comparison. Not to mention that, of the possible locations for an infant to be raised, I do genuinely think that castle Dimitrescu would be the safest place for Rose to be kept during this vulnerable part of her life. Not only that but if Alcina has actually come to care for Rose as though she were one of her own daughters, then she would absolutely spoil Rose rotten with all the nicest clothes and fanciest toys, things that a small infant wouldnt be able to appreciate but would show that she’s loved and cared for nonetheless, and don’t even get me started on the bug sisters, I could see them fawning over Rose for hours on end, playing with her, singing to her, telling her stories of all the man-things they’ve gotten to play with today, and so much more. Overall, Rose would just be the most spoiled and pampered little baby with the Dimitrescus and there’s no changing my mind about this. The only thing I’m struggling to wrap my head around is how they’d feed her, since I doubt a small infant would take very well to blood wine and human flesh. I suppose it wouldn’t be terribly outrageous for them to hire a wet nurse/nanny to care for Rose during the day while the other Dimitrescus go about their daily duties, and when Rose is finally old enough to be introduced to solid food (I.e. fried human flesh cubes) they could do what they always do and turn the nurse into wine too, I guess. It’s not a solid idea but it’s more plausible than anything else I thought of so it’ll work!

2. After spending about 3 years with the Dimitrescus, Rose would then be moved to the Beneviento house. Now, If u don’t know anything about 3 year olds, then you’re probably ignorant to the fact that they are some of the craftiest, sneakiest, and most coniving groups of people to exist on this planet. 3 year olds are masters at getting into and touching just about anything and everything u don’t want them to touch, and worst of all, u won’t realize what they’re doing until they’ve already done it and left a huge mess behind, so while the Dimitrescus love and adore Rose dearly, they know it’s sadly time to hand her over when they find her sitting on top of a pile of dead bodies playing with a metal scythe in the dungeons. Once Rose is dropped off at the Beneviento house, I imagine Donna is her usual stoic self the first few weeks Rose is with her. She’s not cold or distant necessarily, in fact she’s quite happy that it’s finally her turn with precious baby Rose, but Donna isn’t exactly known for being outwardly expressive herself (and even Angie isn’t being quite as forward as she normally is), so things are quiet and peaceful for the first little while that Rose is under her care. It’s not until Rose takes an interest in her doll Angie, and more importantly the things that Donna can do with Angie, that things really start getting fun. By the end of Rose’s first month in the Beneviento house she and Donna are the best of friends and often spend their days either playing dress up and make pretend with Donna’s extensive doll collection, or playing elaborate games of cat and mouse, where Donna will set up lots of puzzles throughout the house for Rose to find and solve (I.e. rose has to match her dress to the doll with the same one as her to find a map telling her which kitchen cabinet Donna hid the chocolate in, or something like that), but be careful little Rose, Angie has been trying to get her hands on that chocolate all day, and if u take too long, she’ll find the map first and eat all the chocolate without saving you a single piece. Just silly little puzzles with enough at stake to engage the mind of a curious 3 year old, but never enough to put rose in any actual danger. Donna is nothing if not a watchful caretaker, so she makes sure she has sight of Rose at all times, occasionally giving her a hint if she’s struggling, and perhaps occasionally making things harder if that day’s puzzle is proving too easy for her. Overall, Rose’s time with Donna, while not as grand and luxurious as the Dimitrescus, was still a fun and enriching experience for the young girl, and there’s nobody in this world who thinks that Donna’s scar is cool more than Rose.

3. After another 3 years with Donna, Rose is now 6 years old and officially far too good at puzzle solving for Donna to keep up with. No matter what she tries or how hard she makes it, Rose just keeps blazing through the puzzles at an almost alarming rate, making it clear that Rose is desperately in need of not only a change in scenery, but also a change in education, and this is where Salvatore finally comes in. After leaving the Beneviento house, I think the next logical place for Rose to stay would be with Salvatore, who, with lore hinting at him perhaps being a scholarly man of some kind, would basically act as her elementary school teacher throughout the duration of her stay. Now, to be fair, Rose could have gone to Heisenburg’s factory, but Heisenberg outright refused to take her and the other 3 lords decide that the factory is simply too dangerous for Rose rn, who thus far hasn’t shown any signs of being anything other than a normal human girl with no noticeable abilities (save for a smart mouth and a terrifying habit of popping up when least expected, a habit she mostly uses to mess with Heisenberg, much to his disdain and Lady Dimitrescu’s delight), so it is to the mutant fish man’s unimaginable delight that he is unanimously voted Roses next caretaker, and the one responsible for her basic education. Despite his initial excitement however, when Rose is finally dropped off at the windmills by Donna, Salvatore realizes that he’s not 100% sure what to do with Rose now that he has her. He’d like to get started on her education right away but at the same time he’s so fearful of Rose hating him because of his disgusting appearance that he kind of just... avoids her entirely at first. He’s never far away from the little girl and is always ready to jump to her rescue should she need it, but other than that Salvatore seldom allows himself to be seen for the first month that Rose is with him, the only sign of him still being around being the platefuls of food that mysteriously appear in Rose’s room 3 times a day, as well as the occasional shiny trinket Salvatore found and thought Rose would like. At first, rose doesn’t seem to mind being left entirely to her own devices, but after every stone, log, and rotting fish corpse within 5 miles of the lake has been turned over and thoroughly examined, Rose decides she’s had quite enough of her Uncle Sal ignoring her, prompting the headstrong little girl to go looking for him herself. She finds Salvatore hiding underneath a patch of floating algae not far away from where she was playing and all but demands that the mutant man come out of the water and give her something to do or she’d tell Mother on him. Salvatore, shocked by the small child’s fearlessly blunt request, hesitates, not wanting to frighten Rose, but ultimately relents, crawling out of the water and timidly suggesting that he teach her how to read and write. Rose quickly agrees, seeming totally unbothered by Salvatore’s grotesque appearance, and the two quickly move to the schoolroom that had been set up specifically for Rose, where Salvatore spends hours upon hours a day teaching Rose everything he knows, filling the little girl’s head up first with the basics, letters and words, then numbers and simple equations, followed later by historical dates and time periods, algebraic formulas, and classic literature analysis, then biology, chemistry, physics, astrology, calculus, ecology, and so much more. Basically, anything there is to know, Salvatore knows at least something about it and he’ll make sure that Rose knows about it too. In the 3 years Rose spends with Salvatore she goes from already sharp as a whip, to being smarter than most adults even, and Salvatore takes immense pride in how intelligent and knowledgable Rose becomes thanks to his surprisingly effective teaching style. Overall, as a caretaker, Salvatore is pretty weird and doubts himself a lot, but Rose thinks he’s funny and loves learning from him so they get along very well and she loves him very dearly! He probs teaches her to swim and fish too.

4. So another 3 years come and go with incredible speed, and its with great sadness on Salvatore’s part that Heisenberg finally comes banging on the fish man’s door, all but demanding that he now be given his turn with Rose. Now, personally, I can see several different arguments being raised by the other 3 lords over why its a terrible idea to let a 9 year old anywhere near Heisenberg, much less be given into his care fully. After about 9 years of seeing his siblings paling around with the constantly growing child, and looking like theyre having the time of their lives all the while, however, Karl decides that perhaps there’s more to this little girl than he originally thought, and, with his interest now piqued (or at the very least looking forward to pissing the other 3 off for entertainment purposes), that its only fair that he be given a turn with her now too, seeing as how he’s the only one who hasn’t been given the chance to be her caretaker yet. This naturally does NOT go over well with the other 3 lords. Alcina all but threatens to kill Karl should he step so much as within 10 ft of Rose, while Donna pipes up and demands to know what his sudden interest in Rose is. Even Salvatore, who is quick to flinch away from direct conflict, goes as far as to harshly point out the plethora of times Karl had outright denied their previous attempts to get him to engage with Rose, so why on earth would they hand her over to him now when he’s previously shown to have absolutely no interest in her? After a long spout of yelling between the 4 siblings, an agreement is reached, wherein Rose herself will be given the chance to decide whether she wants to go with Heisenberg, or whether she’ll return to one of the other 3 lords for the time being. It is to Alcina, Donna, and Salvatore’s absolute horror however, that Rose enthusiastically agrees to go with her Uncle Karl to live in his factory, and with the deal already set, the other lords can do nothing to stop her from going. The trip to drop off Rose at heisenberg’s factory is a long and arduous one, especially for Salvatore, who sobs the whole way there about Rose forgetting about him despite the young girl’s insistence that she’d visit. The first thing Karl does after officially having Rose handed over to him, is give her an extensive list of all the places in the factory in which she is under no circumstances permitted to enter without his permission (which basically only leaves the control room and the old storage closet that acts as her bedroom as viable places for Rose to go and explore). The second thing Karl does is dump her in her new storage closet bedroom and then hightail it for his workshop to work on whatever sick and twisted amalgamation he’s got cooked up this time around. At first, Rose isn’t terribly bothered by this, since she’s used to having something of an “adjustment period” when she’s with a new caretaker, but unfortunately for her, this adjustment period lasts a hell of a lot longer than the others did, and by the time 3 months of almost no meaningful contact with Karl, Rose decides to take matters into her own hands and ascends into the depths of the factory despite the express orders not to do so. Now, going back to the idea that the 4 lords are still pretty terrible people, I doubt Rose has been kept ignorant to the less savory aspects of her caretaker’s lives, and tbh she probably doesn’t think anything of the fact that the Dimitrescus makes wine out of the blood of virgin women or that Salvatore still does cadou experiments (and had her help on occasion), but I imagine even Rose would find the projects Karl works on to be at least a little

4, cont. gruesome and horrifying in nature, especially since Heisenberg is the one she knows the least about. However, instead of turning Rose away from Heisenberg, these terrifying metal creatures she sees locked up only spark her already insatiable curiosity, and by the time she finally tracks Karl down, Rose is all but trembling to learn more about this horrifyingly fascinating metal world. Unfortunately, Karl is not nearly as happy to see Rose as Rose is to see him, and the engineer all but grabs Rose by the scruff of her neck and drags her back up to the control room, yelling and screaming at her all the while about how she was explicitly instructed not to enter these parts of the factory without his permission. Needless to say that Rose does not enjoy this treatment and immediately lashes out, half out of anger and half out of confusion as to why Karl was treating her like this. He was the one who wanted her here in the first place, so why the hell was he just ignoring her now? It didn’t make any sense and it was starting to piss Rose off, so naturally the only thing left for her to do in order to solve this complicated situation would be to continue to disobey Karl until he either gave up and sent her back to one of the other lords, or finally payed some damn attention to her for once. So that’s exactly what she did. Every single day Rose left her room (which Karl kept telling himself he needed to put a lock on, but never did cuz he’s an idiot) and descended down into the depths of the factory looking for something ogle at or tinker with, and every single day Karl would track her down wherever she’d managed to get to and throw her back upstairs threatening to feed her to the lycans if she did it again. This incredibly frustrating cycle continued on for the better part of the next month or so, finally coming to a head when Rose managed to wander into the part of the factory where the... less than successful experiments got put whenever Karl doesn’t have any further use for them but is feeling too lazy to kill them off himself. Long story short, Rose runs into a Sturm that chases her around the factory, causing all manner of mayhem and destruction, and would have torn her to ribbons had it not been for Karl, who jumped in at the last second and was able to fend the damn thing off long enough for Rose to get the ever living fuck out and back up to the control room where it’s safe. There’s a lot of loud noises and explosions coming from deep within the factory that last for what feels like an eternity, but Rose doesn’t dare venture out again until everything has gone eerily quiet and a deep sense of worry has settled in the pit of her stomach over what had become of her latest caretaker. Turns out the Sturm had recognized its creator and, after watching its initial prey escape because of said creator, quickly decided that it fucking hated Karl with every fiber of its being and wanted him dead if it was the last thing it’s propellers did. Now, we all know that Karl is a big strong boy who’s more than capable of handling his own creations and taking down strong enemies, but the Sturm is a creation that even he struggles to control on good days and today is decidedly not a good day so not only does Karl not have the slightest bit of control over the death machine trying to kill him, but its also a lot stronger than Karl initially thought and apparently not picky about the method which causes Karl’s death, which is evidenced by the nearly dead Sturm ramming itself into a power generator as a final act of defiance and nearly blowing up the whole factory and everybody inside. Heisenberg is able to contain the explosion somehow but not without considerable damage to himself first. Rose is, naturally, quite horrified to find Karl passed out in the elevator that had taken him up from the lower levels of the factory where the explosion was, skin burnt nearly to a crisp in certain areas and blood pooling from just about every part of him, and immediately heads over to try and help her injured caretaker.

4, cont. again cuz I physically can’t stop myself. Now, I imagine that any normal 9 year old probably wouldnt be able to handle this sort of situation in any meaningful way, but i think we can all agree that Rose is the furthest thing from normal (especially considering who raised her) and has probably seen enough blood and gore to not be terribly freaked out by it, but this is where things get a little speculative because we don’t know what Rose’s powers are exactly but we do know from the final cutscene that she does have them, perhaps even a plethora of abilities, and I like to think that some of those powers are related to Ethan’s superhuman healing capabilities, but unlike Ethan however, who from what we’ve seen could only heal himself, Rose can actually heal other people (tho this isn’t something she’s aware of at this point in time). The second the elevator door opens to reveal, what looks to be, a half-dead Karl slumped over in the corner, Rose panics and runs to him, doing everything she can think of save for maybe grabbing him by the collar or slapping him across the face, to try and get Karl to wake up, except nothing works, he wont wake up no matter how hard Rose tries and i imagine this must be incredibly distressing for Rose who never intended for something like this to happen or for her caretaker to die because he had to protect her even tho he told her not to go down there because its dangerous and anything down there WOULD kill her if given the opportunity. Anyways Rose is now full on sobbing on top of Karl like only a 9 year old who just discovered that her actions have consequences can, but unbeknownst to her (and technically Karl cuz he’s a little busy bleeding out all over the floor) Karl’s wounds are slowly beginning to close, the burns on his face and hands shift from a bright red to a dark brown before crusting over and flaking off, and even his breathing, which had been labored and inconsistent at first, began to level out slightly. Karl woke up not long after that and was surprised to find that a) he was still alive, which was cool, b) he was injured but not in indescribable pain, also cool, and c) there was a literal sobbing child all but sitting on top of him, which is definitely not something Karl was expecting but he supposed he’s been met with worse things upon waking up after almost dying so why question it. After taking a moment to gather their bearings, the two return to the safer parts of the factory to rest and recover and for the most part this little incident of their’s goes largely unspoken, with Rose not exactly in the mood to talk about how her disobedience nearly got herself and Karl killed, and Karl being too fucking tired to go after her about it, especially since she seems to have learned her lesson. The only downside to this whole thing is that now Karl has a busted up fuckin leg thats gonna take an eternity to heal even for him, and with so much work to still do he’s more or less forced to drag Rose around the factory and use her like the annoying assistant he never wanted (except he did want her, thats how this whole fucking mess started, you lug), except that Rose, who is more than used to playing lab assistant from her time with Salvatore, quickly proves to be a rather capable and handy person to have around, if only because she knows the difference between a philips and a flathead screwdriver even better than he does. An amicable, if still slightly awkward peace settles over Heisenberg’s factory once Karl starts actively engaging with Rose and giving her something to do on a daily basis, even if its just standing around watching him work and occasionally having her questions about what he’s doing answered. It doesn’t take very long after that for Karl to begin realizing that perhaps throwing a huge tantrum to get Rose to come here only to ditch her upstairs by herself for 3 months might not have been the smartest (or most considerate) thing he’s ever done, and even goes as far as to (kinda) apologize to Rose for being such a dick to her since she arrived.

4, last one i swear. Rose forgives him, though not before adding that she already knew he was an asshole from Alcina, which earns her a halfhearted swipe from Karl that Rose easily dodges with a childish giggle. From that point on their relationship improves astronomically as Karl finally gives in and teaches Rose about about engineering and everything else that goes into making the metal horrors that he’s known for. Karl is shocked at how quickly Rose picks up on the trade, getting to the point where Karl wonders if he should start giving Rose her own projects to work on, but quickly rolls his eyes and groans when he remember that Salvatore was the one responsible for her education up until this point, the mere thought of having to give compliments to that “moronic freak” for giving Rose such a good educational foundation makes him want to vomit despite how secretly impressed he is. Overall, Rose’s time with Heisenberg starts out shaky, very shaky even, but after a bit of disaster and some swallowing of the pride on Karl’s part, they end up growing quite close and have a nice fun Uncle and martass Neice dynamic. They make a good team and Karl does genuinely enjoy having a little assistant around to help him with his projects, even if Rose can sound a bit too much like Alcina on some days for his liking.

5. 3 more years come and go and now Rose is a strong and healthy 12 years old, perhaps riddled with a few more scars and smearings of ash and motor oil across her skin than when she first arrived but still strong and capable nonetheless. Going back to that first statement however, this of course means that it’s time for the other 3 lords to come banging on Karl’s door for a change, all but demanding that Rose be handed back over to them. Karl of course refuses, telling them all to fuck off and that Rose didn’t want a leave the factory, so upon realization that all 4 lords were gathered here with the intention of taking Rose back to live with them indefinitely, a fight immediately breaks out between the 4 siblings, as each one makes their case as to why Rose should be returned to them and not the other 3, which of course none of the 4 lords can come to an agreement about because they ALL want Rose to stay with them. So after another long and pointlessly arduous argument, Alcina finally breaks, proclaiming that they’d be here for all eternity of they didn’t make a decision now, and that, like the first time the 4 siblings argued over whether Rose should go with Heisenberg or return to one of the previous lords, Rose would be the one to decide which of her four caretakers she would return to. The agreement is made reluctantly, mostly on the part of Salvatore, Donna, and Heisenberg, but there was seemingly no other way for them to come to a decision, so it would unfortunately have to be up to Rose to decide which of her 4 caretakers she wants to stay with permanently. Rose is quickly brought before the 4 lords and explained the situation, before being given some time to herself to think and make her final decision. A tense and uneasy silence falls over the 4 lords as they wait for the little girl, who they had shown an uncharacteristic amount of mercy and time and devotion and love in the 12 years since Mother Miranda had brought her to the village with the intention of using her to revive an already lost and long-gone baby that she never would have gotten back no matter how hard she tried. Although they refused to admit it to one another, the lords all secretly knew that Rose had wormed her way into each of their cold, dead hearts, reviving an aspect of their humanity that they’d all thought had been lost ages ago. Rose came to the village bringing with her a wave of death and destruction, and yet throughout her childhood she has brought them nothing but light and life, illuminating their previously dark and desolate existences. The 4 lords loved their Rose very dearly and desperately wanted her to be happy, yet each of them possesses a dark and selfish desire to have Rose pick them over the other 3, to come and live with them forever and fill the hole deep inside them that they never knew needed filling. After a short while, Rose comes back out and stands before her 4 beloved caretakers, looking around nervously as she picks at her fingernails. The silence is thick and heavy as the 4 lords stare at the young girl, waiting with bated breaths for her to give her final verdict. Rose continues to say nothing as tears begin to flow from her eyes, sliding down her cheeks in thick streams as the girl begins to sob, dropping her head and clenching her dress. The 4 lords look between one another in confusion, unsure of what to do with this sudden burst of tears. Rose tearfully admits that she can’t and doesn’t want to choose which of the 4 lords she wants to live with permanently because she loves them all very much and wants to be able to see and live with all of them, like they’ve done thus far. Although the lords detest the idea of having to share Rose with anyone, they reluctantly come to an agreement for the girl’s sake, deciding that they would continue with the arrangement they’ve had thus far, only that Rose would switch between caretakers every 3 months instead of every 3 years, giving rose plenty of opportunities to see each of her caretakers just like she wanted. From then on, Rose continues to live her life

5, cont. growing up and learning more and more from each of her beloved caretakers. Although Rose would likely never know what a normal life looks like, living with 4 criminally insane monsters in the remote mountain village in Romania, it would be impossible to say that she wouldn’t have a happy life despite that. Perhaps its because the girl simply doesn’t know any better, so she doesn’t have the ability to see just how messed up her life and her 4 caretakers really are, but i imagine that Rose probably wouldn’t care very much to learn even if she had the opportunity. She’s a happy little girl living a strange but enjoyable life with the only family she’ll ever need. What more could she possibly ask for?

6. As for how Mother Miranda would play into this whole scenario I’ve just drunkenly spat out, im honestly not 100% sure. Ive seen some people suggesting that MM just kinda chills and lets the lords do what they want with Rose, but tbh I honestly don’t see that happening in this universe. MM would still have been just as crazy and driven to get Eva back as she was in canon, so i doubt she’d willingly standby and let her “false children” take away her one shot of getting her real child back simply because they didn’t want to hurt her, i just don’t personally see that happening. The two most likely scenarios i can come up with is that the Lords either banded together and look Miranda on together, their combined forces being enough to take her down and kill her, OR, Ethan is the one to take down MM like he did in canon but he passes out before he can get to rose, giving the lords (who he hadn’t ended up killing but just escaping from i guess) the opportunity to slide in, grab rose, and hightail it out of there, leaving Ethan’s body to be retrieved by Chris, who, due to not seeing or hearing Rose anywhere, believes that Rose must have been accidentally killed along with MM, which he later tells to Ethan and Mia. Regardless of how MM gets taken out of the picture (or if she’s given room to potentially come back later), the 4 lords retreat with Rose and begin the whole cycle I explained up above, but i did want to briefly address how I saw MM fitting into all of this since she is a vital part of the original story and the biggest obstacle to the lords having anything to do with Rose.

Anyways, that was so much longer than I intended it to be but I had so much fun with it just because it gave me the opportunity to spit some fun ideas and potential plot points out about this cool AU that I like and hope someone does SOMETHING with, please god someone do it, I’d do it myself but i have enough projects at the moment unfortunately. If you managed to make it all the way to the bottom, thank you for reading all of that, I appreciate it, and I hope you enjoyed at least some parts of this, and maybe even agree with some of the things I said. Feel free to leave your own ideas in the comments, I’d love to read them and hopefully if enough people like this maybe i will actually do something with it. Who knows? I certainly dont. Anyways thank you for reading all this, i hope you have a great day, and maybe ill see you around in another post. Bye!!! <3

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years

Text

Loki's Game: 10

You were driving in the car with Loki besides you. Thor would be driven there by Tony, in case Frank saw you and Loki arrive. It would look weird if there would be a third man. Loki had changed his appearance to the of a tall man with blond curls. He had changed the spell so that to you and Thor, he still looked like himself. So, you ‘wouldn’t miss his beautiful face’ as he put it. When you rolled your eyes at that comment, Loki just laughed. Tony had booked two rooms, one for Thor and one for you and Loki. Loki was eagerly to accept, however you insisted to sleep on an air mattress.

‘I’m excited for this’ Loki mused next to you. He really was. Ever since he was told he had a weekend outside of the tower, and you with him, he was in a really good mood. ‘Hmm..’ you hummed, not really paying attention to what he was saying. Loki just sighed and kept quiet the rest off the way. When you arrived, Loki acted like a real gentleman, to your surprise. He insisted on opening the car door for you and carried the luggage. He checked the both of you in and you followed him to your room this weekend. When you opened you gasped. The room was absolutely amazing. It had a large bed in the middle, a private bathroom with a rain-shower and a bath. There was a balcony which had a view on the lake with mountains behind it. On the balcony was even a hot tub.

You stood on the balcony enjoying how the wind was playing with your hair. Maybe this mission wouldn’t be as bad you thought. Loki came up behind you and handed you a glass of champagne. ‘Came with the room’ he told you while holding up his own glass. You took a glass from him, but immediately walked past him and sat down on the bed. After a few moments you saw Loki walk towards you. ‘Can we talk?’ he asked you. ‘No, let’s just focus on the mission. Do you have the schedule?’ you asked him.

‘Thor brings it up when he arrives, should be any moment now’ he answered.

‘Great’

‘(Y/N), I’m sorry for insulting you yesterday’ Loki sat down on the bed besides you. You just glared at him.

‘I tend to get… a little possessive sometimes. But that is no excuse to insult you. Please, accept my apology’ he went on.

You looked at him and he looked sincere. His gaze was not as harsh, but rather soft. He took your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. Damn, he is charming you thought. ‘Fine, I’ll accept your apology. But you have to realize something, I’m not yours’ you told him. Loki just chuckled ‘Just wait until the end of the weekend’ he said while he kissed your hand again. He slowly started to trail to your underarm, the light feathered kisses made you giggle. When he was at your upper arm he scooched closer and leaned in for a kiss. Right before his lips touched yours there was a knock on the door. Loki just sighed and rolled his eyes. He got up and mumble something about his brother’s impeccable timing sometimes.

Loki let Thor inside ‘Greetings Lady (Y/N)’ he boomed. ‘I hope I was not interrupting something’ he said while glaring at his brother. Loki just shrugged ‘Everything is fine’ he said. You looked questioningly at Loki who just slightly shook his head at you. ‘So, what brings you here?’ he asked changing the subject. ‘I wanted to give you your schedules, all the activities are on there. And to remind you that I expect one of you to check in right before you go to bed, and right before you go for breakfast. I’ll be in my room the entire weekend’ he explained.

‘You are going to stay in the room the ENTIRE weekend?’ you asked. ‘Why not join some of the activities?’

Loki shot you a dead glare, but you ignored it. ‘He would stand out too much, and draw too much attention to himself’ Loki said. Thor just nodded and handed you the schedule. ‘Well, have fun you two and don’t forget the mission’ he said while glaring at Loki who just smirked back at his brother. Thor left the room. ‘What is the first activity?’ Loki asked you. ‘We are free this morning, but are expected to see if we can spot Frank. After lunch we go on a group-hike’ you answered him. Loki just groaned ‘Great, having to be polite to ignorant mortals is going to be exhausted’ he complained. You ignored the insult and started to unpack. Loki laid down on the bed and watched how you unpacked your own stuff. You rolled out your air mattress and started to pump it up. ‘You know, we can just share the bed’ Loki purred.

‘I know what will happen when we share that bed. We are on a mission, so I suggest we take it seriously’ you replied dryly.

‘You didn’t seem to mind before my brother walked in’ Loki replied.

‘I- I kind of… shut up’ you grumbled. The truth was, you kind of forgot yourself and it felt for a moment that you and Loki were more than whatever you are now. But you blamed the romantic setting for forgetting yourself. Loki just smirked ‘Whatever makes you comfortable, kitten’ he replied playfully. He watched intently how you were pumping up the air mattress. You tried to ignore him, instead getting frustrated with your blouse. Every time you pumped one of the buttons came loose. By the end you were almost in your bra, but luckily your back was to Loki. You stand up straight and buttoned all the buttons back up. When you turned around the top two buttons started to undo themselves. You groaned and buttoned them back up, again. ‘What’s wrong, kitten?’ Loki asked. ‘This stupid blouse just keeps popping open, I might need to change before we go explore this place’ you said. Loki just hummed.

That’s when you felt the button of your pants pop open. You shrieked and tried to button it back up, but the buttons of your blouse all came undone. That’s when you stared at Loki and noticed his playful grin. ‘Are.. are you doing this?’ you whispered towards him. His grin widened and that answered your question. ‘Stop undressing me with your eyes, literally’ you hissed at him. Your blouse fell down our shoulders on the ground and your pants slid below your knee. Loki stood up and took a few big steps towards you. You started to take a step back, but almost fell because of your pants. Right before you lost your balance he caught you by your hips and pulled you flush against him. You walked out of your pants and were only wearing your thong and bra. ‘Loki..’ you started but he cut you off by kissing you. ‘We have enough time’ he said. You shrieked when you lifted you up and threw you on the bed. It only took a second for him to be on top of you and kissing you passionately. You tried to push him off, but he wouldn’t budge. When he broke the kiss for air you said out of breath ‘We can’t do this, we’re on a mission’. Loki just laughed ‘I’ll do what I want’ he replied.

He started to kiss your neck, leaving marks, and moved down to your collar bone. You still tried to push him off, but he grabbed both your wrists and pinned them down besides your head. ‘Don’t fight me, you want this as much as I do’ he said huskily. He went back to leave a trail of kisses and marks on your body. You had to hold back a moan ‘No, I’m not. Just stop, we can’t do this’ you panted. His hand slid down between the waistband of your thong and between your folds. ‘Then why are you wet?’ he smirked. He lazily circled your clit, making you wetter and wetter. He coated his fingers in your wetness and smeared it across your clit. All resistance left you and at this point the only thing you cared about was your orgasm. You slightly bucked your hips and started rub your clit against his fingers. Your orgasm was building up and you started to moan his name.

Right before you came, Loki retracted his fingers. In a green shimmer you were completely naked and he laid down on his back on the bed. You whimpered when you lost the feeling of pressure against your clit. You turned around and draped yourself against his clothed body. You started to kiss his neck and nibbled on his earlobe. Loki moaned slightly ‘undress me’ he said. You startled him and put your hands at the hem off his shirt. You pulled it over his head and immediately kissed his chest and abs. When your mouth was at his pants you unbuttoned them and slid his pants and underwear off in one smooth motion. Loki was enjoying your enthusiasm. You straddled him again and guided his cock inside of you. Loki grabbed your hips and started to guide your movements.

When he had you at the pace he liked his hands went to your boobs, which were bouncing up and down. He started to squeeze them and circle your hardened nipples. He bucked his hips slightly to get a better angle and his cock was hitting your g-spot. You started to chant his name and Loki started to circle your clit again. ‘Come for me’ he said. After a few thrusts you came undone and clenched around him. You felt his cock twitch and his seed started to spill inside of you. You collapsed pushed yourself off his cock and collapsed against him. He pulled his arms around you and hold you close. You started to shiver slightly and Loki started to stoke your back. ‘I told you’ he mused. You slapped his chest lightly. ‘This was the only time this weekend, from now on we focus on the mission’ you said sternly. Loki just pulled you closer and kissed your temple. ‘Jus wait what I have in store for you this night’ he mused.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @theaudacitytowrite @pescadoavocado @oh-my-gerd @rahne85

#marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu x you #mcu x reader #loki mcu #loki x ofc #loki god of lies #loki god of mischief #loki smut #loki odinson #loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki of asgard #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fic #loki fluff

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llamagirl28 · 3 years

Note

Hi Llama! BOC is amazing and I’m so excited for the next chapter! I have a question, though if it’s a spoiler or something you want to expand on in game feel free to ignore this! I was wondering: is everyone able to use magic, or is that talent just limited to the nobility or a few chosen bloodlines? (I feel like the answers obvious but for the life of me I cannot figure it out.) Have a nice day and I hope your exams finish soon!

It's fine, I don't think I've explained it in game yet, but it will certainly come up!

There's not a lot of sorcerers, actually, so they're very valued. That's why a lot of them end up being wealthy or noble, even if they weren't born into it.

Magic bloodlines are created when a fae and human have a child - the magic doesn't leave the bloodline, and generations after will have magic powers, usually with a talent at a certain type of magic, depending on their fae ancestor.

So somewhere along the line, the Le Fay had a halfling - half human half fae- in the family.

Of course, when we talk about magic, there's different ways of practicing it. Either you're born with it, like Mordred, but again, they're not a lot of these blood lines. Either you borrow magic from a fae by praying, like Lancelot prays to the Lady of the of the Lake. These people don't have magic themselves, but they can learn to channel it.

Then there's Arthur and Mordred who also have a unique set of dragon related powers, because they're dragon bloods, specifically of the Pendragon blood line.

There used to be four such bloodlines, but only the Pendragon survived. This one is very interesting because, unlike the other two mentioned, these people got their powers through a ritual. The specifics are shrouded in mystery. But the dragon blood powers never skip someone in the family, unlike how in a family of sorcerers, it's possible for powers not to be active in certain people, like with Gareth. He has the Le Fay blood, but he can't use the powers.

#the bastard of camelot #Lore

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Places (Pt. 07 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 1.9 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (06)

Next part (08) ->

{Vikings Masterlist}

Honesty

“(Y/N), wake up.” A faint, weak murmur fills your ears. You're still under water though, floating away. “C'mon, wake up.” A sudden motion makes you bounce, a movement too abrupt to someone who's drowning. That's when you acknowledge the air filling your lungs. Not too much, but enough to bring some relief. You can't be under water. People can't breathe under water. “You won't die, hear me? Not from the cold.”

Ubbe. What's Ubbe doing here? Closing your eyes tightly, you feel like you're climbing back to the surface, back into consciousness, forcing your eyes to open. The first thing you notice is the cold, piercing, attached to your bones. Then, you realize you're being carried. “What...” You mumble, clenching your shaking hands into fists.

“There you are.” Ubbe happily says, walking fast. “We're almost there.”

“Almost where?” The lightning suddenly changes, and everything gets a little darker.

“What happened?”

“She was at the lake. The ice cracked and she fell.” Ubbe says.

“Get a warm bath to her room now!” You recognize Aslaug's voice. “Bring her close to the fire.”

The moment you're put down and feel a source of warmth, you push yourself closer, but arms hold you back. “Not that close.”

“Shit.” You curse, hands hovering above the fire. It comes back suddenly. The woods, the lake, and the ice cracking under your feet, swallowing you. How you got out, however, you have no idea, but you figure it was Ubbe. “Damn it.” You're shaking like a leaf, wishing you could sit inside the fire.

“(Y/N).” Someone calls, and when you look at your side you see Ivar and Hvitserk, both looking worried. Ivar moves faster though, dropping to the floor next to you.

“Are you alright?” He asks, hands cupping your face.

“I'm cold.” You mumble, laughing at how stupid it sounds. “I'm freezing.” Giggling, you feel as Ivar pulls you close, your body collapsing on his chest. It makes you blush, if that's even possible given how the cold has penetrated your bones. Shaking against him, you place your forehead on his neck, welcoming the warmth emanating from his skin. “Sorry, I'm soaking wet.”

“Don't worry.” He says, a hand caressing your hair. You don't know exactly what's going on, but Ivar is like a second fire right now, and you have no intention of letting go of him.

“Here,” Hvitserk mutters, and you feel a piece of fabric being laid around your shoulders.

“Alright.” Ivar fixes the blanket, rubbing your back. “You'll be fine.”

“Let's leave them,” Aslaug says in a low voice, and you notice Hvitserk and Ubbe walking away. “I'll send someone to call you when the bath it's ready.” Her voice fades away as she speaks, and then there's nothing but the low noises of the fire.

Slowly, you feel yourself warming up, the shakings finally surrendering as you sink more and more into Ivar. You don't want to think about what this means, so you barely move, not wanting whatever this is to end just yet. You almost died today. Drowned, frozen, whatever. But you did think that was the end of it. And life has so much to offer, you'd hate to lose all of its endless possibilities. Death will come one day, but first, you want to live.

“What happened?” Ivar asks, his voice barely a whisper.

“I didn't know I was at that lake, I just... I wasn't really paying attention then I heard a cracking noise.” Taking a deep breath, you remove some hair attached to your face. “Then it broke right under me and the water was so damn cold.”

“(Y/N),” Aslaug calls, and, hesitantly, you move away from Ivar, sitting up straight. “Come take your bath. You need to warm up.”

“Alright.” Nodding, you glance at Ivar before pushing yourself up.

The bath is a blessing, and you couldn't be more thankful. The warm water cleans the ice that fixated itself on your bones, and you relax in the tub. Aslaug, of course, wants to know exactly why you ended up on the frozen lake, and you have no choice but to tell her what you heard. But you beg her not to speak to Bjorn about it. You can deal with your own problems, and you don't want to make their already delicate relationship worse.

After you're clean and warmed up, she allows you to leave the bath and get dressed. You're eager to leave this episode behind and never again you'll set foot on frozen water. As you leave your room with Aslaug, her maids left to drag the tub away, you meet Hvitserk coming from the opposite direction.

“Ice lady.” He says, smiling.

“I'll leave you two to talk and go find my husband,” Aslaug mutters, and you sigh to know she will be speaking to him about Bjorn.

“How about not calling me that?” You tell Hvitserk, crossing your arms. “I almost died.”

“But you didn't.”

“Hvitserk just...” Complaining it quite useless. He'll probably only make it worse. “Fine then, call me what you like.”

“It looks like I won this battle then.” Raising an eyebrow, he gives the girls passing by a glance. “What was that, by the way?”

“What was what?” Running a hand through your hair, you still have a threat of hope he might be talking about anything else.

“Really? Do you expect me to ignore you and Ivar hugging like that?”

“I don't know what that was.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sigh. “But I'm willing to find out. It's better than think too much and end up with wrong conclusions.”

“Ivar is in his room, in case you want to know,” Hvitserk says in a low voice, walking closer and giving you a glance that always makes you want to punch his jaw. “And he was very worried about you.” And he walks away, leaving you there like an idiot.

“You're putting some effort into ruining this friendship, aren't you?” Rolling your eyes, you turn on your heels and start making the way to Ivar's room, walking fast and eventually leaving Hvitserk behind.

You were feeling brave until you're at Ivar's door. Then you wonder if this is a good idea. Some things are better left alone, and Ivar is a complicated person. But still, you can't bring yourself to walk away, so you knock three times, not sure if you want him to answer. But you hear footsteps, and seconds after the door is pushed open. It still takes you by surprise how tall he is, and those blue eyes still send shivers down your spine.

“I left my necklace here.” You mutter, feeling a little stupid. “Earrings, bracelets...”

Silently, Ivar moves aside, giving you space to walk in, so that's what you do. “They're where you left them.” He mutters, but gestures at the table he has set near the fire. Following his gesture, you sit down, hands hovering over the fire. “Ubbe said he saw you wandering through the woods.” He starts, settling down on the chair across the fire. “He called, but you didn't listen.”

“Yeah, I was just... Trying to run from my own thoughts, I think.”

“What happened?” The question is the same as earlier, but it means something entirely different. This isn't about the ice cracking, it's about what led you into that situation. Raising your eyes from the flames, you find Ivar's intense stare as he leans forward, the fire illuminating his features.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to tell him. “I heard Bjorn and your father talking and when I caught my name I decided to know what was that about and... Bjorn said something about a prophecy that says he'll marry a princess and guess what? He thinks I'm the princess.” A humorless laugh escapes your lips.

“Bjorn wants to marry you?” He states, cupping his hands together, anger taking over this expression.

“I don't care what Bjorn wants, only about what I want and I surely don't want him.” It sounds mean, like you despise the man. “I won't be told what to do, not here, not anywhere else, I'm done with being just a piece on somebody else's game.”

A smile creeps through Ivar's lips, and the anger slowly fades. “That's good to know.”

“And... Ragnar said he kept me alive because he promised my father.” Looking down at your hands, you decide to share this with him as well. “That if I didn't get used to Kattegat he'd just send me anywhere. He wasn't thinking about any prophecy.”

“So you're not into Bjorn?” Ivar asks, and you stand up, rolling your eyes.

“I wouldn't have fallen into a frozen lake if I was.” Running a hand through your hair, you tell yourself not to keep bringing that up. The talking or the lake incident. Both things are better if forgotten. “I thought it made things obvious.”

“I've been seen women falling for Bjorn since I can remember.” Ivar says, resting the clutch on his lap. “Some had him, some were left with a broken heart. The older he gets, more women chase after him. Can you blame me for thinking you would be one of those?”

Turning to look at him with both hands on your hips, you chose to be honest. As honest as you can, because there are things you don't understand, things you can't put into words. “In the boat, sailing here, for a moment I thought Bjorn was... I don't know, he was being nice to me. But it didn't take long for things to... Change.” The moment you saw Ivar for the very first time, something went off... Or on, inside you. You don't know what, but suddenly Bjorn was already on second plan. But you're not bold enough to tell him that. “Then he knocked me down with a shield, made my mare bolt up a slope, and now the lake... It wasn't directly his fault but I didn't like him talking about me like I'm just a thing that he thinks belongs to him just because someone else said so.” You get angrier with every word, as the memory of everything he said comes back. Moving to the table, you grab a cup and pour some drink for yourself, taking long sips. “I'll belong to whoever I chose, and only if he wants to belong to me as well.” You only realize what you said when you can't take it back anymore. Taking a deep breath, you drink what's left before putting the cup down. “Sorry, I needed to give vent to my anger.”

“That's alright.” Ivar stands up, slowly making his way over you. “It's good to know you won't bow down. You're more Viking than some people I know.”

“More Viking? Please, I can't even hold a sword properly.” You're about to move away when Ivar's hand comes to your waist, holding you as he did on the day you almost fainted because of the head injury. It clouds your mind immediately, and when you turn back at him, your faces are only a few inches away.

“You can still learn if you want and if you don't...” His hand moves away, coming to caress your cheek instead. His fingertips are cold, but they leave a trail of fire on your skin. “I'll still admire your bravery, Christian princess.”

The way he says it makes you smile. For the first time, it doesn't come out as an insult, or in a sarcastic way. Could Ivar accept you, despite the differences between your worlds? Right now, it feels like he can.

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07 @heavenly1927 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @msrawog

#ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagine #imagine ivar #ivar vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar fanfiction #imagine ivar vikings #imagine ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless fanfiction #ivar the boneless x reader #imagine vikings #vikings imagine #vikings ivar #ivar vikings x reader #ivar vikings imagine

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downywrites · 3 years

Text

Ah, yes, demoninnit

Demoninnit has a ticklish tail. Enjoy. Birb says hi from keyboard. Enjoy.

Tommyinnit, the biggest man ever, was bored. That he knew for sure, spaded tail whipping back and forth behind him lazily as he sat on the stairs, watching his father dust the drawers and shelves. Back and forth, back and forth..The feather duster rose and fell hypnotically, catching his eyes as the little hardcore charm on the end swung back and forth in the same movement. He stared at the fluffy little thing, slightly slitted eyes catching its every movement. His boredom was immense, but the tiny tool was the only movement in the house. If it were any of the warriors that resided in this house, they would have called a moment like this a moment gilded in pure gold, a blessed feeling of tranquil and of pure stillness. The feeling of sitting at a still lake, not a single pebble to disturb the surface. But Tommyinnit is not a warrior like them, steeped in blood, nor was he a musician, whose strains echoed and broke this peace like a weakened guitar string. No, he was a troublemaker at heart, one who made the chaos worse. The chaos that he so longed for, the din he felt so at home in, was missing, gone with the people who usually made it.

Techno had left to practice his fighting skills, claiming that he needed to beat another master swordsman in his own game. Wilbur has wandered off, looking for inspiration, perhaps from that nice lady he had seen earlier. Nick, was it? He didn’t remember her name, nor did he intend on memorizing it either. And the eldest in the house, Phil, was currently doing some of the most boring tasks on earth. The heat was sweltering. Both males had taken their shirts off, Phil trading his usual kimono for a much more airy one. Tommy, obviously not giving much of a shit, simply just took off his shirt, releasing his wings to the open air and relishing in the feeling of the air on the sensitive limbs...for all of two minutes.

He groaned loudly, rolling off the stairs and onto the ground floor. “Phil, I’m bored...ugh, why are you old crusty people so BORING?” His voice echoed through the empty house, making Phil wince a bit at the sudden volume. He smiled at Tommy anyway, dusting away with one hand. “It’s mean to call me old and crusty, Tommy. You know that, regardless of how old and crusty I am, I can still beat most of the people in this area in a swordfight. And this isn’t boring, not if you’re the one dusting and cleaning. Want to try?”

He opened a drawer, pulling out a smaller one. He stared at the swinging charm from the end of it. The little golden apple swung back and forth, distracting him for a minute. Phil smiled, handing him the duster. Tommy dragged his finger through the fluff, delighted by the feeling. He grumbled as if he hated the idea, but he knew that it would be significantly more fun than staring at the same painting they’ve had since the opening of the server for the next few hours. He walked over to his father’s side, only to feel his tail ever so slightly graze his feather duster as he walked by. He squealed before he could stop himself, free hand slapping over his mouth. His eyes widened in surprise and maybe a bit of fear. He turned to look at his smirking father, taking a step back from him. His tail lashed behind him, fearful of what his father would do with this information.

Philza’s smirk widened. “Tommy, you never told me your tail was ticklish~” The words made shivers go up the demon’s spine, and he took a few more steps back quickly, not daring to look behind him, lest he get pounced on. “Woah, woah woah, big man, hehe, no, no no-” He bumped into a wall, and he started in surprise. Phil used the startle to his advantage, pulling him down to the ground with him. He kept him pinned down to the floor with one of his hands on his back, using the other to gently rub at Tommy’s tail.

Tommy whimpered, giggling loudly at the light tickles. His tail was way, way too sensitive for this! He writhed on the floor, his tail already attempting to escape from Phil’s fingers. The bird hybrid continued to gently scratch at the tail, thoroughly enjoying the laughter he was getting from it. “Ehehehehehe, Phihihihihil, nohohoho!” He raised an eyebrow at that. “No, you say? But how could I ignore such a cute little ticklish tail! Who knew that such a chaotic little devil could be taken down by a few quick scratches here!”

As if he needed to prove his point, he firmly rubbed with his fingers at the base of the spade. Tommy almost immediately went limp, tail twitching in the hybrid’s hand. “EhihIHI! NohoHOHO!” Phil grinned, noting down the melt spot in his head for future use. This was a significantly more effective (and infinitely more embarrassing) way to stop the thieving little demon from causing more chaos on the server. “What’s wrong, Tommy? I’m not even doing that much right now. Is it really that ticklish?” Tommy twitched at the t-word slightly each time it was mentioned, his flush rapidly getting deeper with the teasing. “IhihIhihihi’m nohohohohot! Bihihihig mehehehen ahaharen’t tihihihi-wohohordihihiish!” Frowning a little at that, the hybrid rubbed a little harder at his melt spot again. “Oh really? You seem pretty ticklish to me. Tickle, tickle, ‘big man’~” Tommy’s wings flexed, as if he was going to push at him with his wings. He whined a bit from underneath him, shoulders shaking in mirth. “NohoHOHO TIHIHI-WOHORD- squeak”

Phil had the privilege to see Tommy’s neck turn a shade of red he had never seen before. Tommy hid behind his hands, mortified. No big man should ever make that noise, especially not him! Yet here he was, trying desperately to not accept defeat and let his dad tickle him to tears. He continued to laugh his head off at the gentle tickles, his tail flicking back and forth and effectively making it tough for Phil to focus on it. He growled playfully at him, eyes narrowing at the demon. “Oh, you wanna play dirty, huh, mate? I’ll play dirty with you then!” He used his wing to reach for the unused duster, nudging it towards him with his wing tip. It rolled, jingling merrily, up to Philza’s leg, bumping into him gently. He picked it up, jingling it a bit louder if Tommy didn’t hear it already. Tommy began to beg Phil, all notion of pride forgotten in his fear.

“N-noooohoo… Ehehehe….Philza, plehehease, big man... NoooOOOO-” As he dusted gently over his tail, the boy bucked, making Phil grunt and push him back down again, this time using his wing as a weight to make sure he couldn’t escape. Tommy squealed, honest to god squealed, as the duster made full, direct contact with his tail. He banged his fist on the floor, shaking, as he tormented the tail beneath him with the fluffy duster. He wiggled it back and forth, as if he was dusting the shelves. He grinned widely at the sound of Tommy’s hiccuping laughter. He was almost certain that Tommy was crying with laughter, from the sound of it. Yet he carried on, knowing that this certainly wasn’t the extent of Tommy’s stamina. Tommy was dying, banging his fist on the floor and hiccuping loudly. “hic PHIHIHIL! NOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHOT hic THEHEHEHE DUHUHUHUSTER!” His wings flexed and flapped, unable to do much else. He wriggled desperately once more, his energy flagging considerably quickly.

He flexed his shoulders a little, and for a short moment, Phil could feel the emergence of spikes pushing against his palm, before they disappeared and all he could feel was Tommy’s spine once more. They both stopped for a moment, surprised. They turned, meeting each other’s eyes. The bird hybrid stared at the demon, who turned his head back around in shyness. Shyness? Wait, where did that come from? The Tommy I know never gets shy like that. Unless... Curiosity piqued, Philza rubbed over that spot again with the duster, hoping to achieve the same effect again.

Tommy screeched at the feeling, once again flexing his spines back up to the surface of the skin on his spine. If Phil wasn’t already interested enough, Tommy took immediate notice and, flushing fully under his gaze, manually pushed his spines back in, one by one. He was fascinated with the new revelation. His son had never shown him his spines before. He tapped the other end of the duster on his spine, making Tommy shiver violently. “What are these? You’ve never shown me these before~” Tommy hid his face in his hands again. “I-I.. spihines. Ihihi..” He seemed out of breath, so the bird hybrid simply dragged his talons up and down his spine, hoping to coax them out again. The demon yelped, attempting to shield himself with his wings but royally failing, stopping upon the realization that he simply could not reach his back that way. He let his wings flop on the floor, too tired to fold them back in. Phil prided himself with the knowledge that nobody else knew about his son’s spines except him, wings puffing up in pride.

Acknowledging that his son refused to let anybody touch his back without permission, he looked to his son for approval. His son looked at him in the corner of his eye, before closing them shakily and going limp in his hold, his head thumping gently on the floor. He released his son from the weight of his wing, lifting his hand as well, making sure he was as comfortable as one could possibly be in his position. After all, he had been laying face first on the floor for a considerable amount of time.

Once he had done so, Phil picked up the feather duster again, dragging it quickly over his son’s spine. As he did so, the spines flicked up in its wake, making him smile. “Don’t push them back in yet, okay mate?” He saw no nod in response, but he didn’t see him make any movement to do the opposite. He smiled to himself at his son’s sense of pride, knowing exactly who he took after in terms of honor. Just my luck that one of my sons would have my sense of pride when being tickled. Like father, like son, hm?

He looked closely at a specific spine, enthralled by the colors and the shape. It was a maroon color at the base, morphing into a deep, midnight black, similar to his wings. His spines shimmered in the lights of the torches, light illuminating the spiralling patterns. He touched one, delighting in the shiver he got as a reaction. He gasped as he saw a small vein of silver lance through the spine as he touched it. He watched it in wonder as it danced around, revealing patterns and textures he had overlooked earlier. He even saw one pattern shimmer and outline a crude shape of a disc, a wobbly outline, but a disc no less. He wondered, deep in the back of his head, if this was a mocking of what the boy was fighting for on this server. Perhaps it’s a hint from Dream.

As if Tommy knew what he was looking at, he shifted uncomfortably. “I-It’s a bit shitty of a pattern, I know. I wished it was a bit prettier, like your decals-” The bird hybrid cut him off. “No, Tommy, your spines are beautiful. They.. they spark silver, Toms. Did you know that?” Tommy strained to look at him, confused.

“What do you mean, ‘they spark silver’? They never do that with me..ack! Phil, thahahat tihihickles!” The bird-man used his pointer and thumb to rub all over the spine, making the spine shine silver under his ministrations. “They really do, Toms, they do! The silver arcs all over your spine when I touch them like this! Do ya feel it, mate? Oh man, imagine when the others hear about this!” Tommy was fully aware that his spines did that upon contact, but he said nothing, letting Phil relish the feeling of discovering something that nobody else knew about.

He knew that Phil had been aching to go out and see something new, to feel something new. He had been like that when they were young, always on the move, on the hunt for a newer biome, a better server. He was a jokester, and a mighty good one at that, but he was no fool. If this is what it takes to have Phil by my side, I’d give him every secret of mine. I love him, even though he’s just a bucket of burnt chicken at this stage. He giggled harder at the thought, imagining Phil wearing a red striped chicken wing bucket on his head, breaded chicken strewed around him.

Phil, completely unaware of his thought processes, continued to babble happily about his ‘discovery’, rubbing every spine and exclaiming in happiness as they sparked to life. As he moved from spine to spine, the ticklish feeling got worse and worse, causing Tommy to squeak and squeal as more and more of his spines filled with the silvery color. “EHeheheheh! Phihihihill, dohohohon’t! Ihihihihit tihihihi- hic nohohoho mohohore!” He flushed, unable to say the t-word, even in the most desperate of moments. The bird hybrid, too wrapped up in the discoveries, continued to stimulate each of his spines, leaving them sensitive and still-tingling as he went. Tommy was in shambles, unable to explain how sensitive they were without saying the t-word or shrieking halfway through. At one point, he even flapped his wings over his spines by accident, making Tommy shriek like a banshee and flail wildly for a few moments, before flopping to the ground again in pure exhaustion.

Soon enough, Phil had stimulated almost half of the spines. He looked on in pride at the metallic blossoms of color. As he looked upon his work, he heard his son wheezing for breath, a quiet noise that immediately made him worried for his son’s wellbeing. Snapping out of his reverie, he looked to his son’s face in concern. Panting heavily, Tommy looked back at him, tears rolling down his face. He hiccuped slightly, before looking away, embarrassed by his show of weakness.

As if he was struck by lightning, Phil got up, moving closer to his face and cupping his hands underneath to prop up his head. He used one of his hands to rub gently underneath his chin, making sure his talons didn’t scratch his neck. He watched as the spines faded back to their original color, noticing how his laughter calmed down a bit more as more and more of them returned to normal. “T-toms? Son, you okay? Sorry, I got carried away..” He trailed off at the sound of his son purring quietly underneath his residual giggles and laughter. It sounded little like a cat, more like a stuttering engine, but it was a purr of happiness nonetheless. He gazed into his son’s dazed, bolt blue eyes, seeing a similar amount of joy there. He looked back at his tail to see it wagging slowly from side to side, as a final affirmation of the exhausted boy’s mood.His shoulder sagged in relief at the confirmation. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see how tired you were getting, kid. Wanna nap? Cuddle?” Tommy nodded vigorously at that, not specifying which one. He looked drowsy enough as it was, so he scooped up the demon into his arms, cradling him gently.

He opened the door to Tommy’s room with his wing. The doorway creaked as he walked in, an offset note to his footsteps on the wooden floor. He gently placed the kid on his bed, then turned around to leave. Almost immediately, he felt his son’s hand grab gently at his wingtip. “Cuddle?” His sleepy little voice made the warrior’s heart melt. He turned back around, lying down next to the kid. “Of course, mate. Anything for you.” Tommy hugged him tight around the midriff, mumbling into this shirt, “For you, Phil, the world.” Phil wrapped his arms around him, a wave of affection filling up his heart at the unintentional quote. “And for you, Tommy, my undying love.” He trilled, pulling him closer and slotting him underneath his chin. They drifted off in the near silence of the house, listening to each other’s purrs and trills.

If Techno and Wilbur had returned to see the two snoring in Tommy’s bed together, wings wrapped protectively around each other, well, that was a question that nobody, not even the mods on the server, had the answer to. Especially not them. Wilbur may or may not have had to be.. persuaded into secrecy, especially after he found out a subsequent secret of Tommy’s. After all, loose ends needed to be tied up, and he was most definitely the loose end in the family. (Techno may have helped, but only because Wilbur had pranked him by setting up a trap for him during his workouts so he would drop the barbell on himself in his laughter.)

#dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #my writing #downywrites #lee!tommyinnit #ler!philza #bird is not so proud of this one but here we are anyways #sfw tickling

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