In Xerxes, he’s Van Edris. In Xerxes, he’s the son of a former slave, having narrowly escaped being born into his father’s fate by virtue of him being awarded freedom by the time of his birth. In Xerxes, he’s an uncommon commodity, an alchemist with a skill that hasn’t been seen since his father fucked off to who knows where.
In Amestris, he’s Edward Elric. In Amestris, he’s the son of Trisha Elric who was born free and died free because while there are lots of different forms of freedom, in Amestris there’s one that everyone shares. In Amestris, he’s unknown and unremarkable and no one gives a fuck about what he does.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says flatly.
This is what he gets for visiting his father’s country. It’s just fucking unfortunate that the really good alchemical texts are here.
He should have let Al (Van Altun, as they know him, even though the two of them having been using their Amestrian names almost their whole lives, regardless of what country they were in) do it. They’re not nearly as weird about him.
Pakor is alright, as far as kings go. He’s freed a lot of people, is poking at the laws of ownership that has governed his country for centuries to see if he can do anything about them without getting beheaded for it. He’s also known Ed since he was a barely able to walk, back when his father still made court appearances and brought the family along with him. Former slave against most talented alchemist in the country, and people tended to politely ignore the former. Hell, Ed’s been counting on the same thing since he was twelve.
Of course, now it’s coming back to bite him. People say he’s a genius, but if he was really smart he would have stayed far, far away from court. Like in Amestris, perhaps.
“You’re fluent in both languages,” Pakor says, coaxing.
“So are you,” he says accusingly. “We’re speaking Amestrian right now!”
Pakor sighs and switches to Xerxian. “You also speak Xingese and Drachman. You’re a difficult man to keep secrets from.”
“I’m also Amestrian!” he shouts. “And free, might I add! You can’t sell me off to slavery just to get some intel!”
“It’s not like we’ll brand you,” he says, affronted, and Ed is reminded that alright for a king is still pretty shitty. “We just need someone to do a little – double checking. To ensure the situation in Amestris is as it’s advertised.”
“You want to gift me to the Fuhrer to spy on him and you’re, what, just hoping he doesn’t notice that I understand everything and know everything and am, oh yeah, one of his citizens? I’ve been to Central before! With my luck, I’ll get recognized the first day here and then run out of Amestris! And, again, Amestris doesn’t have slaves! The leader of the country really can’t have one.”
Pakor sighs. “You’re very dramatic, Edris. It won’t be so bad. Here, I’ll say you’re my personal slave and that you’re on loan. It’ll be for cultural exchange purposes. He speaks Xingese, so you can communicate in that language without letting on you know Amestrian.”
Ed pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is a stupid fucking idea.”
“If you do this,” Pakor says, “I’ll give you the key to the royal library.”
Ed slowly lowers his hand, eyes narrowing. “I’ve been asking you to let me in there for years.”
“I figured I’d need to bargain it away eventually,” he says. “I was hoping you’d marry one of my daughters for it.” Having even light court obligations is bad enough, he’s in no way stupid enough to marry in. “You’re very difficult, you know. I’m your king. I shouldn’t have to bargain with you.”
“Tough shit,” Ed says, because Pakor may have known him for nearly twenty years, but that knowing goes both ways. Besides, he can’t piss him off because then he and Al will stop reparing all their shit bridges and infrastructure. “Fine. But if I lose my Amestrian citizenship over this, I’m going to be pissed.”
“Noted,” Pakor says brightly.
Uhg.
It doesn’t help that everything he’s heard about Fuhrer Mustang makes the man sound insufferable.
AN: This is for @undercoverpena 's April Showers Challenge. And for once, I did not write smut. I know, who am I? This is not beta'd or really proof read. I'm basically having imposter syndrome over the whole thing soooo...Love you, say it back, bye!
You know that famous saying, “Right Person, Wrong Time”? Well, that was Joel Miller. He had the potential to be the absolute love of your life, but as a single father to a teenage girl and a small business owner, he just didn’t have the time right now. You were about to turn thirty, him thirty six in just a few days time. So, the night before his birthday you made the gut wrenching decision to end things with him.
“What do you mean we should see other people? There’s no other people.” He proclaimed, eyes filling with tears, mirroring yours.
“It’s just not the right time. I want to get married and have a baby, Joel. Do you really want that?” You have to remain strong, it had only been three months, you hadn’t met Sarah or any of his family. Same with your side, he knew about your sisters but no one else was at risk of being hurt by this break up outside of the two of you. This was the right thing to do before you both got in too deep.
Right Person, Wrong Time.
Almost twenty five years later and you still find yourself replaying that conversation. Every September, Joel flashes behind your eyelids - still perfectly clear, almost like it had just happened yesterday. Dark curly hair, patchy scruff, big brown eyes and furrowed brows; one day he’s going to have a permanent crease between them from all his sexy scowling. If you focus hard enough, you can feel his rough and calloused fingers on your skin. You can still hear his deep and silky voice, almost managing to make you feel lighter every time he said your name or called you darlin’ or sweetheart.
“That feel good, Darlin’?”
“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me.”
The outbreak happened not even 24 hours after you broke up with him. Had he survived? There’s no way you survived and he didn’t. Your suspicions were confirmed the day Tommy Miller showed up.
For the most part you liked to keep to yourself, running the community garden. You’re thankful for the small and safe community, but word gets around. And when you hear that Tommy’s brother has come to town you shrink even further back into the shadows, unsure if you want to see him again. Would it hurt more if he remembered you, or if he had no memory of you and that conversation that has imprinted itself upon you? Joel Miller is your last memory, both happy and sad, before the world fell apart.
Him, and the little girl he showed up with, left before you found the courage to approach him and soon winter took over Jackson, leaving you without the garden. Without the distraction from your thoughts of Joel.
The winter is long and brutal. April finally rolls around, and you trudge out into the rain and head to the dining hall for dinner. The gates open in the distance, but you’re lost in your own thoughts. This is more rain than you have seen in months. The garden is going to love it, you think. Just as you’re about to step up the creaky wooden steps you hear your name. It floats across the commune in a deep, gravelly, and oh so familiar voice.
You stop, tears flooding your lash line and the mud squeaking under your rubber boots as you turn to look at him through glassy eyes. Your lips part and your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. The world around you melts away. All you can see and hear is Joel Miller. He’s aged, grey peppers his temples and facial hair, he has those lines that you knew he would permanently etched between his brows, but those big brown eyes are like they’ve been frozen in time as they dance around your face.
“It’s you,” he says softly, voice shaking in a mix of sadness and relief, as he takes a few steps towards you. “I-I can’t believe it. I’ve, well…” He rakes his fingers through his soaked curls as you stare at him. The rain is coming down in a steady sheet, the ground becoming a muddy mess, and both of your clothes completely soaked through. You haven’t taken a breath in what feels like hours.
It’s you.
“I have thought about you almost every day since the world fell apart,” he continues, his warm voice washing over you like molasses. “When I was at my lowest I would think of that little dimple you get when you smile, or that time wine came out of your nose from when you laughed at that stupid joke I made. I don’t remember the joke, but I remember how happy you looked as the sun set and the orange glow lit your skin. I’d remember the way your face scrunched up when you tried whiskey for the first time. I would remember where all your freckles are, and how soft you were against my lips as I kissed every single one. I’d think of that first time we made love, how I’d never felt that overwhelmed with emotion for another person before, how in that moment I realized that I was truly fucked when it came to you. It was anything you wanted, sweetheart. Even if it meant you wanted to break up. I never should have let you go, darin’. I’m so sorry. I tried to find you before we fled for Boston.”
By the time he’s done talking you’re right in front of him, chest grazing his, close enough that you can feel the heat of him. You have no idea how you got that close to him. You don’t remember moving your feet. Joel Miller, your Joel Miller. Greyer, lines around his eyes, but yours.
As the rain pelts down you waste no time, reaching up around his neck as he lifts you up and into his embrace. Your noses graze as you whisper a quiet ‘I missed you so much’ into his lips.
“I’m never letting you go, baby. Never again.” He says and then you press your lips into his in a searing kiss. It lights your whole body on fire, you feel like you’ve been hit by a defibrillator.
warnings + additional info: seungmin is referred to as seungmin and min, seungmin was (and still is) a dick, seungmin is a player, seungmin led reader on, reader reminisces the past, reader blames seungmin for the downfall of their relationship (rightfully so), reader has past trauma from relationships, mentions of waiting till marriage, reader has body image issues, reader has been depressed, reader has trust issues, reader misses seungmin, just a really really sad angsty letter, intended lowercase, written in letter format.
authors note: okay. im so sorry for this... this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)
wc: 1033
dear lover,
why don’t we talk anymore? i remember, you told me i was your best friend once. i remember, i was your best friend before i was your lover. i understand, your love for me is gone now, but weren’t we supposed to be friends? didn’t you tell me we could go back to the way it was? so why don’t you talk to me? why do you avoid my eyes when you see me? why do you ignore my texts?
why do you only speak to me when it’s convenient for you?
i remember when i first opened up to you, my love. i told you i didn’t fit in with the group. i didn't think you needed me, and i didn’t think the others did either. you told me you didn’t know you needed me until i was in your life. do you still need me? why did you love me like that if you were just going to ghost me in the end? we talked about so much. you bought me my wedding ring. i wore my heart on my sleeve for you. you gave me a promise ring. why did you break your promise? why did you write so many love letters to me, knowing that you were leaving in the end?
what did i do to be treated like this? i should have been better to you, right? it’s my fault, right? i had to have done something… right? what did i do? i can do better, i can. i can be a better friend, i promise. you were my first real friend. you held me when things were hard. i need you to hold me once more. you always did my hair all nice to distract me. i miss when you’d braid it. you even played with my stuffed animals with me. you were the first person who accepted me for me.
why don’t you like me anymore? why am i always the one to approach you? did you only speak to me because i spoke to you first? was this all one-sided and you only spoke to me because i annoyed you till you replied? i didn’t know. i didn’t know that i was being annoying. i didn’t realize it. i thought you wanted me too. i’ve been having nightmares again. you told me you’d be there. it’s funny, isn’t it? you promised you’d always be there, but now you’re the cause of them. you broke my trust. you fucked up, and i forgave you. again and again, i forgave you. i took you back for every mistake you made.
why did you take my heart for granted? why did you break me like this? am i unlovable? did you grow tired of me? could you not stand me anymore like the others? the boys told me what you said about me. what you said about my body. i know i don’t look the same anymore, but can’t you still love me? am i really all that different now? or maybe you just don’t want someone who rots in bed all day. yeah, they told me that part too. maybe you couldn’t deal with my past trauma. i’ve lost people in the past like i lost you before. you told me you wouldn’t leave me. not the way they did, at least. but you did. you left, and you ruined me in the process.
maybe i am unlovable. maybe this was meant to happen. was it for the better? did you mean it when you said you loved me those last nights we spent together? did you find it fun? breaking my heart? was it nice to watch me fall apart that night on my bedroom floor? was it fun to use my own pain against me? was it fun telling me it was my fault? did it take some of your guilt away?
i’m mad at you, still.
but a part of me still loves you. a part of me still wants to forgive you, and i don’t know why. i shouldn’t, i know. you don’t deserve my forgiveness. you don’t deserve anything i have to offer. but i still want to forgive you. i still want to love you like i used to. i still want to tell you that im here for you, and i still want to hold you while we fall asleep. i still want to brush away your tears, and i still want to do your skincare for you. but you’re fading away from my life. i don’t know the person i fell in love with anymore, because they aren’t you. i miss his sweet voice, and i miss his melting touch. i miss the sound of his heartbeat, and i miss his heart. but it’s always going to be you, isn’t it? it’s always been you. you’re the person i love most, but the feelings are fading away too. i want to keep them with me. i want to hold it all so tight that your love can’t escape anymore, but you’re gone. you’re gone, and you took my heart with you.
i’m sorry. was i not good enough for you? i wish i could have been the one for you. i don’t know if i’m allowed to say it, but i miss you, min. i miss our late night laughter, i miss our runs to the coffee shop. i miss the bond we had. where did it go? why am i the only one putting effort into this stupid friendship anymore? why do i always text first? why am i begging for you to love me again?
I really like this blog most of the time, but sometimes you take reasonable earnest asks that are trying to be thoughtful, and are such a dick about it.
Like if it's the characters being dicks, fine. But you could say something in the tags or post to indicate you're not just viciously mocking someone for trying to engage.
I still haven't submitted an ask since seeing your response that led to comments along the lines of "anon should go die in a hole" for asking, pretty reasonably, why harrow would want to stay with people she didn't seem to like or want to be around or interact with.
(i know, because she does like them and does want them around but doesn't know how to show it) but it's an ASK blog. How do we hear that from her unless someone ASKS
i understand it might be surprising and a bit hurtful to see an ask answered with the characters being mean/flippant, and for that i do apologize that it wasnt made clear that it would be a common thing in this blog. id like to issue the disclaimer: there is always the possibility that the characters here will not take your question well. they might answer rudely, and instigating behavior is not only encouraged but expected on both ends. this does not reflect my personal opinions as the artist; there are over 250 asks even after i constantly compile duplicates, and i will answer the asks that i personally like.
i will assume you are referencing the two most recent posts where gideon acts rudely and i repost an old panel: for the former i thought anon was really sweet for being so heartfelt and encouraging, but gideon isnt the kind of person who needs to be told shes brave for doing that by a stranger. it was a simple act of survival. and harrow is still very much in the passive deprogramming phase. the latter response was meant to kickstart (spoilers) what i will call the "dicks last resort" arc, where i clean out the inbox and share more simple, low effort, but potentially rude responses*. this is because i have roughly drawn almost daily for 87 days straight, and would like to recuperate without being burnt out because i love this blog and i love art.
this leads me to my next point: some of these answers will be curt and short and rude, because they are easy to draw. if i only prioritized the "good" asks or to make certain ask responses kinder, or longer, it wouldnt be a daily blog. it would be a monthly blog where 5 asks get answered among 100s. i didnt anticipate people asking about harrows piercings, and i considered shutting it down by just having harrow say she likes them etc. but i did want to give more insight into harrows character even if she wouldnt say so herself, and that took roughly 3 full unemployed nights. if i treated every ask in good faith the same way i wouldnt have time for anything else, because they take more effort and have to be seriously considered for the future. i can retcon their favorite ice cream or play off griddlehark fighting - it takes more to keep track of a narrative about people talking Around their issues
* by rude responses i mean "this will affect the 679ers negatively, much like making your sim 🧑🤝🧑➖➖ someone" there are a few asks planned to hurt in the same way one drafts a bad end in a visual novel, and this type of interaction is encouraged. of course if you dont want them to get worse dont send asks telling gideon she should flirt with MILFs (you cant send this ask now i already said it), but i encourage the banter.
TL;DR this is the "characters think you are weird for personal questions" blog. i am sorry i didnt warn of the ask-response banter, because i also enjoy drawing these characters being dicks. i do like when aggravation and conflict leads to character development. "how do we get earnest answers unless someone asks" sometimes you will never explicitly get that from them, and thats what the dead ends are for: to let you know to try something else and read between the lines
Summary: How do Wanda and Natasha react to finding out Y/N was a victim of Hydra?
Word count: 1.2k
•
“When were you going to tell us you were experimented on by Hydra?”
“I don’t know, Wanda. There never seemed to be a right time.”
“Would’ve been nice if we had known before going to bed with you.”
“What’s the difference, Nat?”
“It’s like we slept with a stranger. We don’t even know you anymore.”
I blinked at them, pushing the tears back as the two women that meant everything to me looked at me as if I was a total stranger.
“I’m still the same person.”
“You’re not.” Nat insisted. “You lied to us.”
“I didn’t lie! I just … neglected to mention it.”
“What else did you neglect to mention?”
“I may have forgotten to tell you guys that I maybe have … some powers.”
Nat all but rolled her eyes and Wanda just continued to stare at me.
“What powers?”
“Not many!”
“What powers, Y/N?” Nat had clearly lost her patience.
“I’m strong and I can heal, okay?” I was ashamed of my past, of my powers, and being forced to out myself in front of my girlfriends was embarrassing.
“How strong?”
“I can hold my own against any of you.”
“Not without proper training.” Nat mumbled and I glared at her.
“Try me.”
“Okay, okay,” Wanda finally spoke, getting in between us before we started fighting right in front of her. “Y/N,” her voice was soft. “Why didn’t you just … tell us?”
“I was scared, okay? I was scared and ashamed.” I turned away from both women, my hands shaking with rage. “I hate what happened to me. I hate what they made me. I pushed down all my strength and all my abilities so I could just be normal.”
I turned back towards them, tears threatening to fall as I pleaded to them with my eyes.
“Is it such a crime to have wanted to put all that pain and torture behind me and just … pretend?”
Nat swallowed roughly as she listened to my words.
“You could’ve told us.”
“I couldn’t.” My voice broke. “I worked so hard to put all of that behind me. Telling you would’ve undone everything I did to be the person I am today.”
“But we told you who we were. That wasn’t fair of you, Y/N.”
“I know,” I turned to Wanda, hoping that at least she would understand me. “And I’m sorry. I just didn’t want either of you to think that I was some Hydra agent undercover or something.”
“And what if we do?”
“Do you?” I directed the question at Natasha, but then turned my attention to Wanda. “Do both of you really think I’m a Hydra agent? After everything I told you? After all we’ve been through?” I yelled, my chest heaving and my tears finally falling.
Wanda’s eyes shifted to the ground, but Nat continued to stare straight at me.
“Wouldn’t I have killed both of you already? Maybe while I was fucking you so hard you were screaming my name -”
Natasha’s fist collided with my face before I even had the chance to react. I barely flinched at the blow, even though she had used all her strength and channeled her anger into the hit. I sighed, knowing full well that I deserved it for how I spoke, but disappointed that she resorted to violence.
“Natasha!” Wanda cried, but I raised my hand up toward her, telling her it was okay.
“I deserved that.” I breathed, watching as the realization finally crossed her features that I had taken a hit from her and didn’t even take a step back. “I shouldn’t have brought that up, I’m sorry.”
“Y/N,” Wanda said my name softly, slowly approaching me. “I don’t think you’re with Hydra. I don’t think you have an evil bone in your body.” She took my face in her hands and looked deeply into my eyes. “You need to be honest with us from now on. No more secrets.”
I nodded, my eyes filling with tears once again at the softness of her voice. I thought she would’ve been angrier than Nat, but I guess she understood my desire to put it behind me to an extent.
“No more secrets. I’m sorry.”
“I know you are. It’s okay.”
Nat stood back and wordlessly watched us, still as the dead while Wanda comforted me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me to her, hugging me, and I watched Nat from over her shoulder. Her face was unreadable, blank, but I knew her well enough to know that she was mulling over everything that happened.
“They took me as a child,” I began, looking Nat directly in the eye. “I was tortured for years, injected with god knows what until I was finally able to escape.” I swallowed roughly, blinking away tears. “I can’t tell you how many of my bones were broken, how much of my body was destroyed just for it to repair itself within minutes and for the torture to start all over again because of it.”
“Y/N, you don’t have to …"
“I want to.” I gave Wanda a slight squeeze, letting her know it was okay, and continued. “I wasn’t the end goal. I was just a guinea pig. They were just going to use me until I finally died.” I scoffed. “Unfortunately for me, they made it almost impossible for me to die from anything other than natural causes.”
I sniffled softly and I felt Wanda’s arms tighten around me in support.
“I can’t even kill myself.”
“Y/N, don’t.” Wanda spoke against my neck and I could feel her own hot tears against my skin. “Don’t say that.”
“I tried.” I grabbed onto her, burying my face in the crook of her neck. “I tried to kill myself so many times, but I always wake up. I always wake up.”
I could sense Nat approach before I felt her arms around the both of us. Wanda was full on crying at this point and I was doing my best to hold and comfort her. As Nat embraced us both, and I could’ve sworn that I heard her crying too.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
I looked up at her, her eyes shining with tears. I leaned toward her and pressed my lips to hers and she responded in full, kissing me back while we held Wanda.
“I’m so sorry.” She whispered against my lips and I shook my head.
“Don’t apologize. I was the one who was wrong.”
“I was an idiot. I … hit you.”
“Which I deserved.”
“No, you didn’t. I lost myself.”
“It’s alright. I’m fine, see? Not even a scratch.” I tried to make light of it to try and make her feel better.
I knew it happened in a moment of passion and I truly did deserve it. I had deserved everything that happened to me. I knew that.
Before I could voice another thought, Wanda lifted her head up and kissed me, her lips trembling.
“I’m - I’m fine.” I breathed softly, her green eyes searching mine. “I’m fine, Wands. I promise.”
“I don’t want anything to come between us ever again.” Wanda’s voice was small and she sniffled softly.
“Nothing will. Ever. You two mean so much to me. More than you’ll ever know.”
episode dedicated to merthur kiss that happened in s2 in my merlin fix-it au:
episode starts with a villain laughing evilly in the background, plotting the downfall of uther pendragon, using his newest magic-imbued deviceTM. intro rolls and it cuts to merthur banter, and uther announcing that there will be another tourney this year, the one with the horses and archery.
(merthur in the training field)
Merlin: Why are nobles so obsessed with tournaments??? Aren't you guys tired of it? We JUST had one last month (thinking about the chores he had to do)
Arthur: I don't know what you're talking about Merlin. You’re insufferable, stop being such a loser
Merlin: oh I'M the insufferable one?? have you seen yourself in the mirror???
Arthur: May I remind you that insulting royalty equals to spending the night in the dungeons???
Merlin: And yet you never sentenced me, not even once 😄
Arthur: 😁…it's such a shame, archery isn't my strong suit
Merlin: I know, you really suck at it, but what can I say Prince Arthur? you got to spare one of your talents for us country bumpkins, you can't have it ALL sire
(a squire interrupts their conversation)
Squire: excuse me sire? can you show me how to use the bow?
Merlin: go ahead arthur show him how it's done (know how much arthur sucks at archery, thinking: arthur will embarassed himself)
Arthur: (not falling for it)...why don't you show them instead merlin??
Merlin: wait what?
Arthur: oh i heard how much you've been dying to show your ways with the bow, go ahead!! this is your chance!! (took the bow from the squire's hand and shove it into merlin's hands)
Merlin: oh nonoonononono, i'm not-
Squire: Merlin can do archery??
Merlin: NO!, Arthur: YES! (at the same time, they look at each other)
Arthur: yes.
they banter for a very LONG time before Merlin gave up and demonstrate it for the squire, and to arthur's surprise Merlin is actually VERY good at it. the squire thanks him and merlin returns to arthur
Arthur:
Merlin: ????? what???
Arthur: i never knew you're proficient in archery
Merlin: i'm not??
Arthur: oh yes you are Merlin! Stop being so modest!
Merlin: (scoffs) i don't know what you're talking about
Arthur: (rolled his eyes, his face lit up) i know merlin! why don't you join the tournament!
Merlin: what.
Arthur: 😁😁 you should! it's open for everyone this year! maybe it will stop you from complaining about every tourney that’s conducted on camelot!
Merlin: stop being ridiculous
Arthur: I think it's brilliant! look i'll even be your personal trainer!
Merlin: Arthur, never in a million years would i sign up in an archery tournament
Merlin: YOUR SIGNED ME UP FOR THE ARCHERY TOURNAMENT???? (in arthur's chambers now, shoving a scroll of parchment into his face)
Arthur: (took the parchment) interesting lineups this year, no worries Merlin! i'll take care of you 😁
Merlin (already pale): you got to be kidding me
Arthur: oh relax! worse case you're just going to lose at the selection, then you can go back to polishing my armor 😉
Merlin: 😊
montage of arthur personally training merlin. it timeskips to the selection round. Merlin is in a tent dressing himself up
Merlin: (very nervous, mumbling to himself) oh my gosh, oh my gosh, what if something goes wrong, ohh nooo what am i going to do...
Arthur: (scaring him from behind) stop being a nervous wreck merlin!
(merlin actually jumps, arthur took pity on him and pulls him up, brushing off dirt out of his gears)
Arthur: (notice that merlin didn't even put the gear correctly) honestly merlin, can't you even do anything right??? (start fixing his gear)
(Merlin is nervous, still staring at the floor)
Arthur: (putting a hand on his shoulder) Merlin
Merlin: (looks nervously at him)
Arthur: (serious) you know, no matter what happens, i'm always here for you. you have my full support merlin, even gwen and morgana and gaius. if someone made fun of you, i will send them straight to the dungeons
Merlin: (a little less nervous now knowing that arthur is supporting him) thank you...
Merlin enters the selection ground, with the entire court watching him. He focuses on his target, feeling his surroundings with his magic, and it actually hits. gwen cheered at him from the crowd. gaius and morgana gave him a smile. uther was impressed. arthur beams at him from the royal chair, so proud with him.
it was break time and merlin saw the a participant doing very suspicious stuff (it's our weekly villain), he tries to follow him but arthur surprises him from behind
Arthur: you did it!! (putting an arm over his shoulder, ruffling merlin's hair)
Merlin: ow!! arthur!! (smiling bashfully)
Arthur: that was incredible! who knew you could be so good at archery! while riding a horse no less!!!
Merlin: oh stop it...(still smiling while trying to find the villain, arthur notices)
Arthur: is there a problem...?
Merlin: Hm??? oh no no...
Arthur: (looks at the direction he was looking at, notices a scrawny men) was there something particular about that guy...?
Merlin: what guy?
Arthur: that guy (points at the guy)
Merlin: i uh...no it's nothing (smiles at him)
Arthur: (not buying it) Merlin he is not the weekly sorcerer trying to kill my father right?
Merlin: (haven't even concluded that far) what?? no!! (actually considering) could be????
Arthur: (internally: merlin is on his bs again) could be???
Merlin: i don't know!!! I was right about the troll!!
Arthur: lady catrina
Merlin: RIGHT!!!
Arthur: (doesn't actually believe the guy is evil) tell you what merlin, you can continue to participate in the tournament, while i stalk after this guy
Merlin: WHAT??
Arthur: Merlin as your personal trainer i don't think now is the right time to snoop on other participants
Merlin: Arthur, for all we know, he could actually be evil!
Arthur: (patting him in the back, laughing haughtily) don't worry merlin!! he's not evil!!
Merlin: but-
they were interupted by gwen hugging him, and morgana congratulating him. merlin stops worrying about the participant. time skips to scenes where merlin keeps training for the tournament, while arthur snoops around this 'evil participant'
arthur thinks its a joke, doesn't ACTUALLY think that he's evil, and snoops around for fun. until he actually brings out his magic-device thingy and arthur went straight to merlin
(in the camp when the first round about to begin)
arthur: you're right he's absolutely evil
merlin: knew it
arthur: i will tell my father!
merlin: (stops him) arthur, we don't have proof
arthur: i'll just order a search on his room
merlin: you need to be more careful than that
arthur: fine then merlin, what do you suggest?
merlin: right after the first round, i'll help you
arthur: alright then, good luck out there (double checking merlin's gear, and merlin DID mess up the gear on his arm, arthur fixes it for him)
merlin: okay (gulps)
merlin went through the first round. but before arthur can reach him, the evil sorcerer went to him first
villain-of-the-week: congratulations on passing the first round
merlin: thanks… (suspicious but can't let it show. merlin accidentally stare at his necklace and was enchanted by it)
villain-of-the-week: i trust that we will be good rivals in the future?
merlin: (smiles) why of course
the villain leaves, arthur goes to him
arthur: that nasty scumbag, what does he want merlin?
merlin: (still smiling)
arthur: merlin??
merlin: (blinks) who?
arthur: the bloke merlin!! the evil sorcerer!
merlin: (confused) arthur, he's not evil, he's very nice actually, i hope he wins…
arthur: something is very wrong here...
merlin: he's a very pleasant guy arthur, you should learn to be like him
arthur tries to get merlin out of the daze, but merlin is just not having it. arthur eventually gave up, and tries to warn the others but they are enchanted too, the villain tries to enchant him but he avoided him. only he and morgana was left unaffected
arthur: he enchanted the entire court!
morgana: tell me about it, gwen has been fawning non-stop. it's driving me a little insane actually
the days goes by as morgana and arthur tries to stop the villain, but everyone is just complying to him. and arthur notices that the villain is always closing on his manservant. one time arthur notices him and merlin in the yard
villain: i wanted to congratulate you
merlin: that's very kind of you
merlin has been passing through the rounds, they are now in the semi-finals, merlin wasn't planning on winning this far but the enchantment made him feel obligated to this villain, he's planning to give up to him once they are in the finals
villain: i trust that the prince is very proud of his servant
merlin: he is…
villain: (gets closer to him) you are a very talented man indeed, i wonder what else you can do…maybe you can…show me in private…?
merlin: oh...i don't know...i’m not-
arthur: (already putting an arm over merlin's shoulder) what he meant to say was you should leave
merlin: oh arthur he's just-
arthur: leave.
villain: (bows) sire (leaving)
merlin: what was that about??
arthur: he was going to hurt you
merlin: nonsense! (batting away arthur’s arm) why are you being so dramatic arthur??
arthur: (a bit frustrated that his efforts are failing for the last few days) oh i’m dramatic!? I’m not dramatic at all merlin!
Merlin: (pissed off at arthur) i don’t know what you want anymore arthur! You signed me up on this tournament when i didn’t want to! And now that i’m actually winning, you don’t want me to talk to other competitors?
Arthur: no-
Merlin: (a bit of merlin’s pent-up emotions bleeds, fueled by the enchantment) do you actually have ever think about anyone other than yourself?! Merlin this, merlin that, do you know how bloody exhausting it is to be your servant?! Have you actually considered what i want Arthur? You are an asshole! A gigantic stuck up git that won’t care about anyone other than yourself!!And when i’m actually winning you can’t even cheer me on? Do you actually care about me or i’m just another accessory to you? You don’t even train me anymore!!
Arthur realizes that he has been neglecting merlin in the past few days, in favor of catching the villain. Skipping their practices, ignoring him on the tournament. And he never got his consent to enter him into the tournament
Arthur: i-
Merlin: no arthur! Screw you! (Storms off)
arthur mulls over merlin’s words while trying to catch the villain with morgana. The final tournament rolled around and when merlin and the villain is going to face each-other off, did arthur finally realizes what he actually wants
Arthur: he’s going to kill merlin
Morgana: what??
Arthur: he doesn’t want to kill father, or you, or me! He wants to kill merlin!!
morgana and arthur scrambles to defeat the villain, while the finale is happening arthur is facing off the villain
Villain: well this looks like it’s going to be your resting place arthur pendragon
Arthur: please, try me
They fight in an intense battle, Arthur finds out that no, the villain is not a sorcerer after all. He’s like valiant, only a fool messing around with witchcraft
Arthur: why are you targeting my manservant??
Villain: oh arthur pendragon, there’s a lot of things that you don’t know about him….
Arthur: what do you mean
Villain: let’s just say he’s not what he is….have you ever heard of emrys??
Arthur: i heard it a few times before
Villain: you will soon encounter that name again, especially in the presence of your servant
Arthur doesn’t really give a piss about what he means, so they fight in silence after that. Arthur lost and the villain grins
Villain: be grateful i’m not ending your life right now, but i don’t see how your life will last much longer with the death of your servant….
The villain enters the finale with merlin. They are to shoot eachother with a dummy arrow. The first person to hit the other’s armor wins. Buf ofc the villain’s arrows are actually deadly. But when he almost hits him, Morgana managed to trip him with her magic.
He tries to get up but he feels himself paralyzed and passes out (it revealed later that arthur had slathered his sword with chemicals and managed to wound the villain). Everyone snaps back to their senses and camelot cheered on their new winner. Uther congratulate him and merlin still blushed like a child, embarassed
(Morgana and arthur from the crowd)
Morgana: i’m glad it turn out well
Arthur: me too
Morgana: we’re going to be in so much trouble for disappearing on the tournament (they didn’t sat at the royal seat for the past few days, always watching silently from the crowds)
Arthur: it’s fine, i’ll do anything for him, thank you morgana (looking at merlin who’s getting carried up by the crowds, and merlin cheering at them. Arthur is too embarrassed to go up to him, still thinking about their fight)
Scene cuts to the castle once the tournament is over, in arthur’s chambers at night, arthur was getting ready for bed on his own, trying to dress without merlin. Merlin enters the room, taking pity on arthur
Merlin: you look pathetic, let me (helps arthur into his sleeping attire, which is just his pants)
Merlin: (sigh) fine (preparing himself) i’m really sorry…for what i said back then, after the semi-finals…i don’t know what happened back then, something came over me and i just- i’m really sorry arthur, i really am. I didn’t mean any of that and i-
Arthur: no merlin….i should be sorry. You’re right, i’m a stuck up git. I overworked you too much at times and I force you into things that you didn’t want to and i can be a prat. I know i’m not perfect, and i’m really sorry…
Merlin: (feels bad, but awed by arthur’s apology) arthur-
Arthur: and as your future leader too. You need to tell me when i’m crossing the line, i know i can be a bit to much at times, and i really appreciate your honesty. i…want to be the king my father am.
Merlin: (caress his hair) arthur…but you’re already so…brilliant and amazing…and everything that Camelot needs. You don’t need to become like your father, you’re already perfect the way you are. i trust the reign you will bring someday. You will always be my once and future king
Arthur: (leans on him) thank you
They stare at each-other. Arthur drawing the lines on merlin’s faces and staring into his eyes
Arthur: i never knew how curly your hair is
Merlin: i tried to straighten it like yours, never works
Arthur: or how sharp your cheekbones are
Merlin: i get that a lot, the kids in ealdor thinks im a phantom
Arthur: or how blue your eyes are….(arthur trails the merlin’s lids, until he stops on his lips)
They inched closer to each-other until their lips touch. The kiss was light, and tentative. Testing the waters. Arthur nibbles into it, once, twice, and Merlin nibbles back. Arthur forgot how long it was, maybe it was only for a second, maybe a minute. Before merlin parted from him, leaning away
Merlin: no
Arthur: no?
Merlin: (tries to get away from arthur)
Arthur suddenly realizes that he’s kissing merlin. He, prince arthur had just kissed merlin, his manservant, a servant, a male servant. And arthur drops his hand from him as if on fire. Merlin didn’t say anything and left wordlessly. Arthur goes to his bed, still reeling over the fact that he just kissed Merlin, tucks himself under the covers.
Outside the hallways merlin is walking towards gaius’s chambers, hand pressing over to his lips. Before he continues to walk away.
What I don't get is why people think it's problematic to still wish for Buddie. Like isn't it worse to be happy just because he's with a dude now. Like so you didn't ship Buddie for their amazing chemistry and history, you just shipped them because they were two hot dudes.
(This is not directed at people who are enjoying Tevan for the ride, this is about people who jumped completely)
((obviously bi Buck is important, but I don't think seeing it as a step towards Buddie is bad. We've been waiting for something like this for so many years))
Sorry but this is all that’s in my head^^
But yes yay now I get to have my rant-
The fact that so many people genuinely just wanted buck to end up with a dude is just
Look there is wanting representation which I GET I am all for
Then there is not caring about anything to do with that representation as long as you see two hot guys kiss
Representation without substance, meaning and actually changing what we usually see on screen is just so surface level
and listen we are ALL guilty of that thing where we hear about a show with a queer couple and we instantly get excited and rush over there but some of these people don’t give a shit about the storylines as a whole, the characters as a whole, character development, etc all those things that make representation MATTER
Like we aren’t just happy that bi buck is canon because oh look here’s a bi man character
No we are happy because we got to see his development we got to see his insecurities, history, his personality and his bond with these other characters through the years. Now look I’m not saying oh look at this fictional character think about his feelings, I’m saying that characters and their complexities drive a story they are what make me invested whether it’s a book a movie or show, and to not care about any of that just for the sake of tokenism is insane to me
I also feel it bares mentioning that this is one of the RARE times that this representation in media isn’t a case of tokenism like they’ve taken a character and built him and built the show and built the dynamics outside of his sexuality and made it canon in season SEVEN like Tim and Oliver and the entire team did something we don’t see much or ANY of in media like the way they made it is like we have this journey with the character like it’s a double blind test ( sorry I’m revising for a psych exam rn and my brain can only use that analogy) and until the reveal seven years in we don’t know for sure even if there have been inklings and people are more focused on the fact that oh look some hot dude kisses another in this show
Like genuinely ship what you want to ship and enjoy the time but don’t disregard meaningful potential representation which would have 1. A character navigating sexuality in a situation as complex as Eddie’s 2. A gay couple which wasn’t planned and they actually listened to fans for 3. A well done queer slow burn with the same gravity and meaningfulness that straight slowburns get
Thank you for the opportunity to rant anon🫡
Sorry for the long ass reply😭😭
Edit: also wanna add that yes I’m in analysing media mode because I also have sociology revision on representation in media🤭🤭
I wanted to write something about benchmark for two days and even made 2 small posts. In one I was a little upset, in the second it seemed to me that everything might not be so bad... In general, I'd rather hide this, there will probably be a lot of sadness, please don't read this if you don't want to see something sad. Maybe I'll delete it all later.
I will not delete this post. I'll put the right tags and let it stay here. I will do this for two reasons.
First: I want other people who feel the same way right now to see that they are not alone.
Second: this is also part of our history with her. And even though this is a very sad part, it still exists. The day will come when I will look at this post with a smile and say: we got through this.
I have two pictures that I should have finished, but instead I spent two days on the forum trying to do at least something in a feeble attempt to save her face.
I described the facts, I took a billion screenshots, I whined, I got upset, I was rude to people 2 times, I made a bad joke 1 time and apologized. I left a bunch of messages in a bunch of different threads in the hope that they would be noticed, I reported a bug in the bugs section, I even left a message on the Japanese forum.
I'm depressed and I don't feel like I can manage words at all like I used to, especially in a language I don't know very well.
All I can think about is that on this beautiful ocean and on this beautiful ship, she and I will sit and try to accept the fact that she was crippled by an evil plastic surgeon. And all this instead of joy and anticipation of new adventures. All I hope is that this will be fixed before 7.0 is released. The hope is weak, because I understand that there are just over 2 months left, but I am still an optimist (although now it may not seem like it, but I am truly an optimist).
One my dear friend said that I am very attached to her. This is true. And I feel that I have to do at least something so that this horror remains only in the benchmark, like a bad dream from which I will wake up at 7.0
This is how she now looks in any directional light. In the benchmark movie too. Wherever the light hits, she looks like this.
I don't think it should be like that. It's obviously not just a change in the shape of her lips, it's a mistake in the lower part of her face that's giving her a huge, horizontal, ugly hollow that runs across her mouth and cheeks. The top of her face is fine.
She definitely looks better with her back to the light, but her sweet smile has disappeared.
I made a comparison collage and it became clear to me that although all miqo faces are affected by this in one way or another, her face type was affected much more than the other 3 and it is most noticeable on this face and this type of lips.
I met another person on the forum with a similar character and the same type of face and she told me that she felt and saw everything the same as me.
There were opinions that in the “new” lighting her old little dimples at the corners of her mouth could turn into this because “they didn’t touch her face.” This is wrong. I looked at her from all angles "before and after", under all possible lighting and obviously there had been changes in the shape of her face in this area.
The lips became flat and depressed. Their previous form was completely deformed.
I won't change her with fantasia. I have never changed she and will not do so. I'm just really sad right now and I hope this gets fixed.
If not... oh well. I'll fix it myself. That's the plan :) I will try to return everything to the way it was and I will do it.
People call mods "crimes". I will say this: the real crime is what they did to her.
I am really feeling a whole situation with like Joseph Woll where the reader is like his friend and is trying to get his attention with a new outfit. Maybe it’s a bit hot and heavy and I’m definitely feeling it being set to “dress” by taylor swift….
Oh, absolutely, bb! 🤍 Friends to lovers with Woller - yes, please 😉 This also goes out to the anon who asked for soft smut with this cutie!
Joe's such a Prince Charming, and I'm def here for it! I hope I've managed to convey your vision, with just a hint of heartache and a whole lot of romance, spiced up with a touch of smut 🤭 Please, enjoy 💓
Warnings; 18+ smut; f masturbating, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v); 🤍
Word count; 4.4K
・✶ 。゚
Dress - “I don’t want you like a best friend” I Joseph Woll 🖋️🌺⚡️
"WOAH! What a save from Woll! The game's flipping like crazy, and the Leafs are battling the Islanders! Who'd have thought it, eh? The home team was cruising with a 4-0 lead halfway through the second period!"
You found yourself holding your breath, listening to the commentators bellowing on the telly. The Leafs had been trailing for most of the game, but out of nowhere, the tables had turned, and now they were tied 4-4 going into overtime.
It was another Thursday night, glued to the TV for the Leafs' away game, and another night spent cheering on your best friend Joseph Woll as he pulled off incredible saves. And to everyone’s surprise, the game ended 4-5, all thanks to his amazing comeback.
-
No one could’ve prepared you.
When you first met Joseph Woll, you never expected the whirlwind that would follow. Not only was he a goaltender for the Toronto Maple Leafs, but he was also the kindest, most charming, and good-looking guy you'd ever met. His smile could effortlessly light up a room and his personality had you smitten right from the start. And life just wasn't the same after that.
Because Joe seemed miles out of your league. Despite the laughs and friendly banter, he never showed any romantic interest beyond friendship. So, you instead accepted your role and stood by him as his best friend.
Truth be told, navigating your feelings wasn't easy. Ever since you became friends through mutual connections, you'd been riding waves of highs and lows. You were nothing but an ordinary person, getting on with life after finishing your studies, figuring out this whole adulting thing. And he was a pro athlete, admired by many, especially the ladies.
However, his last relationship, which nearly turned serious, had ended painfully, so you remained the steadfast friend, always there to listen and support him as he concentrated on his career and avoided getting emotionally entangled.
Little did he know, his heartache only served to deepen your own feelings for him. Now that he was single, a spark of hope ignited within you, despite knowing it was ill-timed while he was still healing.
Despite the ache in your heart, you continued to be his rock, offering your shoulder whenever he needed it, whether it was about hockey or his personal struggles.
-
Watching Joseph from the comfort of your sofa in your small studio apartment, a glass of red wine in hand, was a balm for your soul. His infectious smile as the final horn sounded, and his teammates surrounded him with pats on the head and hugs for his stellar performance, warmed your heart deeply. Yet, it also stirred something more intimate within you.
You almost felt a pang of guilt as you watched the post-game interview on your phone from your bed, your hand gradually finding its way under the duvet to your lacy underwear, gently exploring your sensitive spot.
Allowing the video to loop, you listened to his voice as you increased the intensity, edging yourself closer to pleasure.
Part of you wished to stop, to redirect your thoughts away from him as you indulged in self-pleasure. However, even after switching off the interview, his image lingered in your mind, haunting your thoughts as you closed your eyes.
You pictured his long, dexterous fingers teasing your most sensitive areas, his hands exploring and stimulating you with care and desire. Imagining how he would make love to you, with tender motions and passionate kisses, filled your mind with longing.
But it was only you, your own touch, yet with thoughts of him filling your mind, you reached the peak of pleasure, his name slipping from your lips as you released a sigh of satisfaction.
You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. Only the thought that you were the only one privy to this intimate moment provided some comfort, but it didn't fully alleviate the feeling. As you gradually opened your eyes and returned to the reality of your own apartment, a soft "shit" escaped your lips, acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation.
The boys were returning from their short road trip with a renewed vigour, just in time for the annual ‘A Night with Blue & White’ gala. A night that promised to be a dazzling affair, with the venue adorned in the team's colours, heartfelt speeches about community outreach and opportunities for children filling the air, and the Toronto Maple Leafs players dressed to the nines in their finest suits.
And to your great surprise, Joseph had asked you to be his date for the night just before they went on the road. At first, you couldn't quite believe it. He wanted you to accompany him alongside his teammates and friends for the evening, to which you naturally, eagerly accepted, the words almost tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. You had to apologise for your overzealous response, but Joe, always so sweet, simply chuckled and flashed you his charming smile.
"Don’t worry, it's just as friends, so you don’t have to be nervous, y/n," he reassured you.
As if that was supposed to ease your mind? If anything, it only made the sting sharper. Yet, with your knack for putting on a brave face, you brushed it off with a friendly smile.
"Well, I can’t help it, Joe… now I have to find a dress! I mean, I don’t have anything to wear for a gala!"
There was a moment of shared laughter as you enjoyed a quick dinner together, catching up on a few episodes of your favourite TV show.
"Oh, no need to panic! Y/n, you'll look beautiful in anything!"
Joseph's words echoed in your mind for days, accompanied by his laughter and broad grin. Did he truly mean that you'd look good in anything? Even beautiful?
You tried to push the thought aside. You knew you had to let go of the hope for his romantic affection, as he consistently reinforced that you were just his friend.
However, you couldn't resist one last attempt. Seizing the chance to dress to impress, you searched for the perfect outfit to catch Joe's eye. And if this didn't work, you resolved to find a way to move on from your unrequited feelings.
So, as the event was only a day away, you settled on what you deemed the perfect combination of elegance and allure: a long, silky black dress, with a chic neckline and a hint of skin. It struck the balance between sophistication and allure, hoping to capture Joseph's attention, as you promised yourself to go all out, bring your best self – and if Joe still saw you as just a friend, at least you could say you gave it your all. Well, except for directly telling him how you felt; but you weren't quite that bold.
Yet as the night approached, you felt nothing but confident and radiant, putting the finishing touches on your hair and makeup. Tonight, you hoped to gain clarity on your deep feelings, whether for better or worse, and you were prepared to face whatever came your way.
You allowed yourself a few minutes to pep-talk yourself and make a few power poses in the mirror, however, interrupting your thoughts, a knock sounded at your door. Joseph, as expected, had come to pick you up, and when you met him at the doorway, a smile automatically spread across your face.
"Wow, love the look, Mr. Caveman," you chuckled lightly, noticing how he'd let his dark beard grow out.
"Yeah, well, all the boys were doing it, so I thought I'd give it a shot as well," Joe laughed, running his hand over the scruff.
As always, he looked impeccably handsome in his dark grey checkered suit, his hair perfectly styled with just the right touch of ruggedness from the beard. Which only made it harder to accept the possibility that he didn't share your feelings.
"Well, it suits you," you merely replied, flashing him a sweet smile.
There was a moment of silence as you both exchanged smiles, until Joe shook his head, his eyes widening slightly as he took in your outfit.
"Oh, and wow, you look…" he struggled to find the words to describe your appearance. "Wow…"
It was the exact reaction you'd hoped for.
"Well, I'll take that as a compliment," you chuckled in response.
"It... it definitely is."
And after a few more moments of sharing admiring glances, Joe, ever the gentleman, offered you his arm as you walked to his car, ready to embark on the evening ahead.
To describe the venue as breathtakingly beautiful would be an understatement, as the blue and white lights illuminated the Fairmont Royal York Hotel, casting an elegant glow and creating a stunning atmosphere.
Everything about the night seemed perfect, except for the reaction you longed for from Joseph. Despite his proximity in the crowded room, he felt simultaneously near yet distant, leaving you yearning for more. You wanted him to see you, to truly see you.
And as the evening slowly wore on, you felt your hands tremble and your heart race as you watched him softly play tunes on the piano in the dim light. Thankfully, it seemed no one else noticed the depth of your connection to the goalie, but as everyone stood in awe of his talent, you reached your breaking point.
You'd held back for so long, the patience and desperate longing eating away at you. So, taking a large sip of the expensive champagne, you excused yourself to catch some fresh air. Perhaps you weren't quite ready to confront your own emotions, to face the truth of whether Joe felt the same for you.
So, you resolved to let it go. That was, until Joseph caught up with you just outside in the yard.
"Hey, y/n, are you okay?" he gently took hold of your hand, causing you to turn halfway to meet his gaze. But you couldn't muster the cheerful smile you usually wore. You had surrendered to defeat, allowing tears to well in your eyes and trickle down your cheek as you looked up at the tall man before you. "Oh damn, what's wrong?"
Under the starlit night sky, your gaze locked with Joe's, his hand resting gently on your arm. Despite the cold January air causing a light shiver, your mind was too preoccupied to notice. And with a final mental push, you mustered the courage to speak your truth.
"I don't want you like a best friend, Joe..."
Joseph seemed taken aback, his concerned expression shifting to one of stunned surprise. "What?"
"I can't keep doing this..." your voice trembled, struggling to hold back tears. Instead, you offered him a smile, though your eyes betrayed nothing but defeat. "I can't pretend to be just your best friend when... when I'm in love with you."
The words hung in the air, your heart laid bare and open, as your deepest secret was exposed. Now, you would discover whether it would all come crashing down or if there was still hope.
But Joseph remained silent, his deep brown eyes reflecting the shimmering lights of the evening.
Meanwhile, tears welled in your eyes. With each passing moment, the ache in your heart intensified, as if a knife were being twisted, digging deeper and deeper.
The pain was unbearable.
You couldn't fathom what was going through Joseph's mind. And just as you were on the brink of giving up all hope, he finally broke the silence.
"Y/n, I..."
"It's okay," you interjected quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand..."
Just like that, the knife was pulled out, leaving your heart shattered into a million pieces.
"No, you don't understand..." Joseph's words cut through the air, his hands reaching out for yours, holding them tightly as his eyes bore into yours. "Y/n... I'm in love with you too."
The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You had already resigned yourself to your fate, but Joseph suddenly turned everything on its head.
"What?" you gasped, barely able to comprehend what he was saying.
"Yeah, I... I think I've been in love with you for... God knows how long," he admitted with a mixture of laughter and sigh, running his fingers through his hair as if he were just realising the depth of his feelings.
"Wait... You're in love with me?”
You were utterly stunned; your head spinning as you tried to process what Joseph was confessing to you.
"Well, yeah! I was just worried you didn't feel the same... Every time I tried to flirt with you, you just... laughed it off and carried on with a joke or something," he admitted. "And... truthfully, I was afraid you wouldn’t want, you know, this kind of life, one with me and my career."
It was all too much to take in. You felt like your heart was bleeding, yet Joseph was slowly piecing it back together with his own admission of feelings. And suddenly, a rush of joy swept over you, as if all wounds had been healed, and you almost couldn't resist throwing yourself into his arms.
Closing the distance between you, you reached up to wrap your hand around the back of his neck, leaning in to connect your lips with his. You felt a hint of embarrassment at how eager you must have seemed, but in that moment, you didn't care. Finally, you were free, and Joseph shared the same desire as you.
Breaking apart from the kiss, you couldn't help but chuckle, the sound mingling with Joseph's laughter. "Shit, I'm so sorry... I just... I've wanted to do that for so long," you confessed, briefly looking down.
But Joseph's hand under your chin gently lifted your head, allowing your eyes to meet his once again.
"Don't worry... so have I," he murmured before leaning in to place another kiss on your lips, this time with more depth, his hand tangling in your hair as yours rested on his chest.
Both of you were lost in the moment, oblivious to the biting cold that surrounded you. And as you slowly pulled apart once more, your reverie was interrupted by cheers from some of the players who had come to find you.
"GO JOE!"
"Woohooo Woller!"
"Now you can finally stop whining about her!"
You and Joe turned to face the teammates, both of you unable to suppress your laughter.
"Oh, this is embarrassing..." Joe chuckled, a blush rising on his already pink cheeks from the chilly weather.
"Well, at least you haven't been crying..." you laughed along, still feeling the remnants of tears on your cheeks.
"Hmm, you're right about that, but then it's lucky that you're a lot more beautiful than me when you cry," Joe said with a sweet smile, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"Yeah, that's probably a good thing." Another tender moment lingered between you as the other players began making their way back inside, and suddenly your body shivered uncontrollably. "Maybe we should head inside..." you suggested, giving Joe a pleading look, to which he nodded in agreement.
And true to his gentlemanly nature, Joe first removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, his arm still around you as he guided you indoors.
"How about we get out of here?" he softly suggested, and you couldn't agree more. The event was winding down anyway, and right now all you wanted was to be alone with your newfound love.
-
There were no words that could adequately capture the overwhelming joy coursing through your body, the sparkling endorphins igniting every nerve as Joe drove you home and walked you to the door.
There was so much you wanted to express, so many feelings you longed to articulate. Yet, in that moment, as he leaned in and your lips met in another heartfelt kiss, words became unnecessary.
Well, perhaps except for, "Want to come inside?"
Your voice was low and soft, cautious not to betray your eagerness. But you knew your desire for Joe was shining like the brightest star on a cloudless night. And thankfully, he shared the same longing.
The air in your small apartment felt heavy and charged as you both entered. Skipping the formalities, you simply took his hand and led him towards the bed. The sensual tension hanging thick in the air, as Joseph's eyes were locked onto yours, his breaths heavy with anticipation.
He could feel the rush of blood to his member as his mind raced with thoughts of finally making love to you. And as you turned around, your back to him, pulling your hair to one side, he understood the unspoken invitation.
"Take it off?" you whispered softly, and without hesitation, he let his long fingers find the fabric wrapped around your neck, gently untying it to reveal your naked breasts. Then slowly moving further down, he delicately unzipped the small zipper holding the dress to your curvy figure, letting it fall to the floor around your heels.
Left in nothing but a delicate pair of knickers, you turned around slowly, letting him admire your nude figure.
Joe had to swallow hard as he looked at you, his eyes tracing every curve before meeting yours again. "You're stunning," he murmured softly, before tangling his hands in your hair and drawing you into a passionate kiss.
You easily melted into his embrace, your tongues moving sensually as you shared the warmth of your mouths. Meanwhile, your hand automatically sought him out in the dim light, starting to loosen his tie. And Joseph felt the eagerness and desire rising within him, deftly assisting you in removing his blazer and tie.
With each passing moment, the air grew hotter, your lips seeking each other in between deep breaths, as Joe guided you backwards until the backs of your knees met the mattress. With gentle motions, he encouraged you to lie down, lifting your legs into the air, before he tenderly removed one of your heels, placing a soft kiss on your ankle, then repeating the gesture on the other foot.
You couldn't help but smile. Joe's touch felt amazing, and you hadn't even fully experienced it yet.
Standing there, your legs on either side of him, the tall goaltender admired the sight of your nearly naked body before him. It was everything he had fantasised about for months; your skin shimmering in the moonlight, adorned with tiny droplets of sweat from the chemistry between you.
And Joe felt the same warmth coursing through him. So, while maintaining eye contact, he slowly undressed in front of you.
You had to bite your lip, propping yourself up on your elbows as you admired his face and physique. And what particularly caught your eye was the growing hardness in his boxers, a clear sign of his desire for you. Merely seeing it made your pulse quicken, your cunt pulsating even without his touch.
Your heart pounded in your chest again, but this time, it wasn't from anxiety or fear of heartbreak. No, this time, it was your intense longing for Joseph about to be fulfilled. And as he gently let his fingers find the waistband of your knickers, effortlessly pulling them off, before kneeling on the mattress, prompting you to shift so he could settle between your legs, you found yourself craving more.
It was a moment both of you had been anticipating, yearning for so long.
Yet Joseph took his time. Although neither of you were novices in intimacy, he wanted to ensure it was nothing short of incredible for you. So, as you lay there, your legs slightly bent and spread open for him, he let his fingers delicately explore your sensitive heat, eliciting a soft gasp from you.
Reclining on your back once more, your hands resting on either side of your head, your body surrendered to his deliberate touch, your mind focusing on your breathing. However, it was futile as he gently pressed a finger against your entrance before slowly sliding it inside.
His movements were unhurried and cautious, causing you to softly plead for more. And your wish was his command. Adding a second finger, Joe tenderly stimulated your inner walls, feeling the wetness of your cunt as he savoured the soft sounds of your pleasure. He felt his member almost throbbing with anticipation as he let his fingers glide in and out of your centre, watching your expressions of pure pleasure, while he couldn't help the small patch of pre-cum forming on his boxers.
"Mmm, yes Joe…" you softly moaned as his fingers worked their magic, sending waves of pleasure through you, occasionally causing your eyes to roll back in ecstasy.
The atmosphere grew hotter and heavier, your moans growing louder with each passing moment, filling the room. But you couldn't contain yourself. You'd been dreaming of Joe's touch for so long, and now that it was finally happening, it surpassed all your expectations.
His fingers alone were steadily bringing you closer to the brink of orgasm, yet you yearned for more; to feel Joseph inside you, filling you completely and holding you close.
"Joe," you breathed out softly. "Please, I need you inside me…"
And you didn't have to ask him twice. His pulsing cock was already eager to be enveloped by your tight walls. So, with careful movements, Joe withdrew his fingers, leaving you with a sense of anticipation. Yet, you knew what was about to happen would feel even better.
Stepping back onto the floor, Joseph kept his eyes on you as he gently lowered his boxers, revealing his proudly erect length. You almost wanted to call it beautiful, if such a term could be applied to a penis. Your mouth almost watered as he returned to the mattress, positioning himself between your legs, his larger frame hovering over your smaller one, before descending into another deep kiss.
Your hands quickly moved to grasp his brown locks as you felt the tip of his manhood teasing your entrance. And as you sensed the pressure of his length, you instinctively pressed your body against his, urging him to penetrate you.
"Oh yes…" you moaned, breaking the kiss as Joe stretched your core, filling you completely as your tight muscles embraced his member.
"Damn, y/n/n… you feel incredible," he muttered softly upon reaching the depths of your walls.
It was an overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation, but what truly sent your mind spinning was when he began to withdraw, only to thrust back in and establish a steady rhythm.
Moans grew louder as you shared this intense intimacy, the heat radiating from your bodies with each thrust and movement. Your hands couldn't stay still, yet eventually settling on his broad shoulders, while your legs instinctively wrapped around his lower back. The lift from your hips provided him with the space he needed, and as the intensity increased, so did his actions.
"Mmm, yes…" Joe moaned as he picked up the pace, his fingers gripping the sheets beneath you as he felt the waves of pleasure building within him.
"Shi- Joe, you feel… oh, yes…" You couldn't even manage a coherent sentence in the heat of the moment.
It surpassed all your wildest dreams. The perfect combination of desire and passion intertwined with deep, romantic feelings hung in the air. And as Joe maintained his steady rhythm, the sound of your bodies colliding with each thrust, you felt yourself edging closer to climax.
And Joe could sense it too, feeling your walls gently tightening around his shaft, bringing him closer to the edge as well. "Oh… fu-" he hummed between moans. You felt absolutely wonderful, and he worried he might reach his climax too soon.
So, observing you close your eyes, he slid an arm down between your bodies, supporting himself on the other arm as his hand found your clit. And as he could sense your nails lightly digging into his skin, he knew you were close. Then slowly circling your bud of nerves with his skilled fingers, he watched as your breaths became erratic and desperate, your moans disjointed, and your back arching, causing your head to fall back onto the pillow.
"Oh yes! Joe, yes, I'm coming…" you cried out, as he continued to stimulate your clit.
"Yes, come for me…" he whispered along with your moans. And within seconds, you let out a loud cry, holding your breath for a moment as you reached climax.
It was intense few seconds as time seemed to stand still, your mind soaring while Joe made love to you through the rush.
And the sight of you reaching climax almost pushed Joe over the edge, causing him to thrust harder and faster, driving himself towards his own release. And it didn't take long before his motions became desperate, his need for release matching the intensity while your muscles clenched around him.
So, with a final loud groan and a few deep breaths, Joe allowed himself to let go, releasing as he spilled into your depths.
It was intensely passionate, both of you sharing loud moans, surrounded by sweat and the heat of your bodies as you gradually calmed yourselves, slowly returning from your euphoric states. You didn't even realise how long the two of you remained still in that position, your core still pulsating around his shaft as Joe caught his breath and regained his strength, eventually lifting his head to place a soft kiss on your lips.
Satisfied smiles graced your faces as you shared light chuckles, and Joe gently withdrew his cock from within you, coming to rest beside you and wrapping an arm under your head, pulling you close for a cuddle.
"That was…" he breathed out softly.
Turning your body towards his, you placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him. "Perfection?"
Joe chuckled again at your sweet word, his other arm resting behind his head as he gazed down at you. "Perfection, indeed."
It was the perfect conclusion to a perfect night, yet also the beginning of something deeper and more profound.
The battle would have been difficult for nine heroes. For one — even one as experienced as himself — it had been nearly impossible. A fight hardly even worthy of being called a battle.
No, Time thinks, grim and dizzy, as he digs his fingers into the dirt and attempts to sit up, it had been a pathetic struggle at best. He had barely escaped with his life.
The Shadow, it seems, has a vendetta against him. Not that he doesn’t have one toward all of the Links, but…
Time’s efforts land him back on the ground, shuddering as wet coughs tear through him.
…but it had felt like something beyond his usual distaste for the Heroes of Hyrule. As he had poured monster after monster through those cursed portals, as he had attacked with a sneer on his lips and a glint in his eyes, it had felt personal.
Perhaps, that is not so surprising.
Wavering, Time grits his teeth. Blood trails down his chin. Its warmth is in stark contrast with the icy chill that has taken root in his bones.
The Shadow’s sentiments hardly matter right now. It is not as though he could decipher them correctly if he wanted to.
His thoughts are scattered and panicked, his body failing, his vision going gray. He is mere inches away from salvation, from safety, and his time is running out.
Another stab of pain imprisons him in its steely grip. A muffled cry breaks through his tightly closed lips. His vision whites out for a moment, before returning fuzzy and distorted.
Desperately, he reaches out. Trembling fingers slip, slick with blood and monster gore. He collapses with a small splash.
The effect of the sacred water is instant. A ripple of magic runs through him, warm like a blanket and sweet like the sugar water he offers in hopes of regaining his fairy. In the next second, wings unfold from his back, his body shrinking to fit them.
He slips fully into the embrace of the shallow waters.
Time ends up on his side, liquid seeping in through the chinks in his armor and beading upon his wings. He blinks, slow and agonizing, trying to drag himself back to some semblance of awareness. But whatever delirious strength had born him here has fled and taken everything with it.
The water flows around him, glittering and cool. Gently, it soothes his injuries, carefully, it numbs them. But it’s not enough. He knows that now.
This fountain has been weakened. This fountain has no fairies left — save for himself — to imbue it with blessed strength.
No doubt, the monsters have driven them away. He can feel their distress, can imagine their flight, away from here and the encroaching darkness of evil and night.
Time gazes at the surrounding trees. They are mere shadows now, hazy and grayish. Twilight is long gone, bringing with it its brilliant purples and pinks and oranges. Storm clouds cloak the usual speckling of stars and block out the dismal light of the moon.
Not that Time minds that. Without its depressive glare, he feels calmer.
If he has to fade away, he would rather do so beneath an angry sky, curled in the fountains that have always been his haven, in the form he feels most comfortable in. The form he cannot comprehend, yet treasures all the same.
The waters turn black with his blood, feathery wisps of it floating out and away from him. He watches it with disinterest. Everything feels far away now. Even his need to survive, to return to Malon.
He tries to grasp for it, to bring it back to the forefront of his mind. But his efforts are for naught. And what good would it do him anyway? He is too weak to move. He spent his remaining energy on the desperate gamble of stumbling here. Hoping, praying that the magic he felt calling him was still active. Was still alive.
Something rustles in the bushes. A creature, most likely, scampering about, unperturbed by his wavering presence. He is so small now he would be surprised if anyone could see him. Or hear him.
His blood, however, is another matter altogether. Who knows what beasts have tracked the scent?
He shifts slightly and a groan slips out before he can stop it. It doesn’t matter though. Whatever horrors seek him cannot measure up to the pain he is already enduring. The Shadow has the power to turn one’s own body against them. No wolf or bear has that ability.
Something large and dark emerges from the shadowy foliage. Piercing blue eyes glare into his. Time tries to focus on them, tries to decipher their strange familiarity. But the world seems off-kilter, pain turns everything distant.
I’m sorry, Malon. He thinks as the form moves toward him, looking to his fading eye almost like the clouds that hover above them. I’m sorry that I broke my promise.
And pup…I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.
“Time?” He hears the voice from very, very far away, growled more than spoken, a rumble like thunder before a downpour of rain. It cracks at the end, splintering like his bones when the Shadow had swung his sword too high, too fast for him to evade.
Time wants to drag himself up, wants to comfort this being he is certain he knows. But he lacks the strength to so much as raise a finger.
And when he is lifted with a gentleness he cannot comprehend, when something soft and warm envelopes him, something that murmurs, “safe” in tones he knows — he doesn’t even attempt to break free.
If this is death, it is wonderful.
---------------------------------
He must lose himself soon after that. Because when he opens his eye it is an act of awakening, surfacing from the unfeeling deep.
Time stirs, sighing as that same warmth of before embraces him. The pain that had torn him apart has dulled greatly, leaving behind only a ghost of what it once was. And though he isn’t certain why it’s gone — or even if that is a good omen or bad one — he can’t truly bring himself to care.
He is comfortable here, drifting in this haze of dark, and he doesn’t want to disturb it. It has been so long since he felt like this (perhaps, since the start of the heroes’ journey). It has been so long since he slept, actually slept.
“Old man?”
Something damp and cool nudges at him. His bed of plush fur (fur? His mind questions blearily) quivers at the movement.
“Hey, old man. Can you hear me?”
Time hums, a low sound that grates on his abused throat.
A sigh of relief. His sanctuary shifts again.
“Thank Hylia. I thought we’d…I thought…”
Time frowns. There it is again — that voice he knows, usually so strong and joyful, not shattered like broken panes of glass. The voice that ignites something in him, a protective instinct as strong as he feels toward Malon. The voice that reminds him of their love and the miracle that will come of it.
Reluctantly, he drags his eye open.
At first, he can make out very little. But a few blinks and his vision clears enough that he can see the thick gray fur that surrounds him. He is nestled on Twilight’s back, he realizes, sluggishly, situated so his pup can keep an eye on him, even reach him if he cranes his neck.
Those crystal blue orbs meet his and there is something broken in them. Time has never seen such emotion in a wolf’s eyes before.
“I thought I’d lost you.”
He shouldn’t be able to understand that sorrowful growl, and yet, Time can hear the words as clear as day.
That…is a mystery he will decipher later.
“‘M sorry, pup,” he croaks. His wings flutter gently. “‘M sorry.”
Twilight must have found him lying there in his own blood, hardly clinging to life. To have come upon such a sight…
Guilt wells within him. Time swallows against it.
Twilight shakes his proud head.
“You can’t scare me like that. I can’t even scold ya like you can me.” He narrows his eyes. “Not that that’s gonna stop me from trying.”
Time huffs an attempt at a laugh. “I don’t…don’t doubt that.” He grows somber once more. He feels unconsciousness tugging at him again. But before he falls, he must at least say this. “You saved me. You shouldn’t-shouldn’t have had to. But I thank you for it.”
Twilight gazes at him for a long moment. “Of course. I love you, old man. Malon loves you. I never would’ve left you there. I never even entertained the thought. So, no thanks are necessary.” He cocks his head. “Although, gotta admit I’m a little sore about the fairy secret.”
Time resists the urge to roll his eyes. “You keep your own transformation a secret. Why…why should I not keep mine?”
“Oh, you can keep it from everyone else if you want. Just not from me.”
“What makes you s-so special?”
“I’m your descendant,” Twilight answers drily. “So, how do you do it? This isn’t an after-effect of what they…what happened to you…is it?”
Time shakes his head. “No,” he murmurs, struggling to stay alert. “I’ve always been able to do this.”
Twilight is silent for a moment. Then, “I came across a stray fairy when I was trying to get you back to camp. She was the one who healed you. She called you a child of the fairies. Not ‘brother’ like Hyrule. Their child.”
Time stares dazedly at the shrubbery surrounding them. They have always called him that. Even Tatl had. But hearing it now, from Twilight, raises new questions. Questions he supposes have always been there, hovering in the back of his mind. But that he has never bothered to ponder.
The quiet stretches and Time can’t decide how to break it. So, he merely lets it be and snuggles deeper into Twilight’s fur, suddenly immeasurably grateful that his descendant’s secondary form is a wolf.
Powerful and gentle in equal parts. It fits his pup well.
“But never mind that now,” Twilight says, as though sensing Time’s exhaustion. He sighs. “You need your rest. You comfortable up there, old man?”
Time nods. “Soft,” he mumbles, drowsily.
Twilight nuzzles him again and humor is in the movement.
“Good. Go to sleep then. I’ll watch over you.” His tone grows serious, unyielding. “Nothing will touch you while I’m here.”
A slight smile lifts the edges of Time’s mouth, even as a voice cries out within him, protesting this display of weakness, this terrible burden he has put on his descendant. But he is so, so tired. Too tired to rise and be the stalwart leader he knows he should be.
His wings spread flat upon his back, like a shield. Darkness crowds his vision, numbing his thoughts and weighing down his still-sore limbs.
“Thank you, pup,” he whispers, with what little strength he has left.
The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 12 - Summer: Photos
Masterpost
Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader
Summary: The date has ended successfully, but it also brought about an unexpected turn of events
Warnings: None except for the fact that this story is 50% written based on vibes
Note: This chapter isn't beta'd so sorry in advance for any typos or rough edges
Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask
Have a pic of Neuvillette enjoying some tea
Previous | Next
“My dear Iudex, are my eyes deceiving me, or is that a smile on your face?”
Neuvillette raised his gaze from the documents spread out before him. Furina was standing on the other side of his desk. Of course, he had heard her enter his office before she even spoke, but he was so used to her unannounced intrusions these days that he treated it as a part of his daily routine now. I only hope that she makes this quick. I have a rather heavy agenda today, and I would like to return home before dark.
Furina leaned over his desk, her heterochromatic eyes eagerly scanning the desk for some sort of incriminating evidence to grab onto. Of course, she found none. Neuvillette wasn’t so foolish that he would make such a careless mistake.
“Hmph, I didn’t know that paperwork could inspire such a joyous expression on one’s face. What a contrast you make with the Gestionnaires outside your door! You really must get out more.”
“Indeed, I have, thanks to your urging. I believe you’ve already read the note I left you.”
“Ah, yes, that sorry excuse for a note,” Furina sniffed. “‘Will be away for a day due to personal reasons.’ No mention of where you’re going or who you’ll be with.”
“I see no reason why I should have included either of those things. I followed all the necessary protocol for requesting leave, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
“Oh, I am. I’m overjoyed to hear that you’ve been picking up new hobbies lately. It must be the influence of your new wife. If only you’d allow me to meet this remarkable woman so I can thank her.”
“New hobbies? Whatever do you mean?” Neuvillette ignored that last part.
“Why, your new hobby of photography, of course!” Furina propped her head on her hands, affecting an air of nonchalance, but her eyes gleamed like a cat that had a tantalizing mouse set in its sights. It was a look that Neuvillette was all too familiar with. “I’ve heard whispers that you’ve sent off a large number of photos to be developed, and that you’ve gone on a recent shopping spree for photo albums. Your day-off seems to have been very fulfilling.”
“It was, indeed,” Neuvillette nodded. His face gave nothing away. This was also not a surprise and was in fact well within his expectations. He had felt the gazes of Furina’s spies more frequently as of late, but it was not a difficulty for him to evade them. The one who developed the photos for him was a trusted agent of the Marechausee Phantom, and the envelope that contained the finished products (which he had fortunately received well before Furina’s intrusion into his office) hadn’t been tampered with.
“Oh, I know it was. A boat ride on the sea, huh? How romantic! I didn’t know you had it in you, Neuvillette. All those romance novels I’ve supplied you with seem to have paid off. Oh, if only there had been someone there that day to take a commemorative photo of such an astonishing sight, the Iudex taking a human out on a date!”
Neuvillette went very still. “Get to the point,” he said, his voice cold.
Furina’s grin widened. The cat was getting ready to pounce. “It just so happens that a subordinate of mine was out at sea on the very same day that you were out and saw that astonishing sight for himself,” she took out a photo from her pocket and slapped it onto his desk. It was a clear picture of him helping his wife off the boat after they returned to the docks at the Court of Fontaine.
Neuvillette’s blood ran cold. How could this have happened?
“Not the most fashionable, is she?” Furina peered at the photo. “I don’t recognize her, so she must not come from a very important family, either. But putting that aside, what a charming couple the two of you make! Honestly, Neuvillette, I do wonder how--”
"Leave my office. Now.” Neuvillette’s palms slammed against his desk as he rose to his full height, causing Furina to back up a few steps despite herself. He felt an absurd urge to cover the photo with his hands, to protect the image of you from the scrutinizing gaze of an outsider. “You've seen her face now. Be satisfied with that and resign yourself to the fact that you will never meet her.”
A startled expression appeared on Furina’s face before it was quickly replaced with a smug smile.
“My, my, Neuvillette,” she purred before plopping herself down on the couch next to his desk and crossing her legs. “I would reconsider, if I were you.”
"Have I not told you to leave—”
“Now that I know what your wife looks like, it’ll take very little effort on my part to find out who she is soon enough. My network of informants is extensive, as I know you’re aware. But I’m a magnanimous god, so I shall give you a week to think it over. If you won’t allow me to meet your wife by that time, then I’ll have to take matters into my own hands and find her myself.”
“You wouldn’t dare. I had expected better of you.”
“Oh, don’t give me that!” Furina suddenly stood up and marched over to his desk. “You’re the one who won’t agree to a simple meeting! I’d expect you to be more grateful, considering how I’m the one who pushed you to get married! If it weren’t for me, you would never have even thought of approaching this woman, who you clearly care for a great deal, and you’d probably spend the next five hundred years continuing to mope about on your own, never knowing what you could have had!”
There was a long, tense silence after her rant. “Are you finished here?” Neuvillette said, struggling to suppress the violent tempest of emotions swirling inside his heart.
“I suppose I am,” Furina stood up. “By the way, Neuvillette, you should be thankful that it was a subordinate of mine who took this photo and gave it directly to me, and not someone from those third-rate tabloids you despise so much. I’d love to see you ignore that scandal away.”
Neuvillette said nothing, simply glaring at her. His hands were curled into fists at his sides.
“See you in a week, my dear Iudex. Do pass on my regards to your wife.”
After saying that, Furina spun around and strode towards the door. It was only after the door closed behind her firmly that Neuvillette leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh.
Torrential rain beat against the large window behind him. He wanted to walk into it, to wade into the sea.
I was too negligent, he cursed himself in his head. I should have been more careful.
Throughout his long career, he had become adept at evading reporters and paparazzi. And yet, somehow, this happened.
Anger and fear gripped his heart. He didn’t care what the papers said about him. But the thought of you becoming fodder for them was intolerable.
The sight of your tear-filled eyes had been like daggers to his heart. He never wanted to see them again.
He took a sip of water (imported from the frozen rivers of Snezhnaya) to cool his head and gazed at the painting hanging near his desk. By a fortunate twist of fate, you hadn’t signed it. However, its usual calming efficacy was diminished today.
Neuvillette had wanted to look at the photos again during his break, but now he was too on edge to even think of opening his desk drawer and taking the envelope out. It felt like just the act of it would be exposing its contents to danger, even though he knew that was irrational.
He could sense the clouds covering the sun outside the window behind him. There would be a downpour on this fine evening, and he silently apologized to the people of Fontaine, and especially to a certain young lady who was doubtless in the garden right about now.
The sooner I finish my work, the sooner I can return home, he thought, in a vain attempt to calm himself. And give the photos to her. I know she has been waiting for them eagerly. I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed…
Unconsciously, his feet began tapping against the floor.
This can still be salvaged, he told himself. Nothing has happened yet. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her peace.
Switching back into work mode, Neuvillette sat up once more—and let out a pained grunt. His hair had gotten caught in the cracks of his chair.
“Where is this rain coming from? It was clear just a few minutes ago,” you grumbled as you stared up at the lead-colored sky. It had been a beautiful day like it had been for weeks, but for some reason, the clouds decided to unleash their water just as you had finished taking the daily sunflower measurements.
I bet Neuvillette is enjoying this, you thought as you went to stand under the eaves. It hasn’t rained in quite a while.
“Madame, it’s raining,” Marie opened the porch door. “You didn’t get wet, did you?”
“Just a little bit, but it’s nothing too bad. Marie, could you fetch me my umbrella?”
“You’re still planning to garden in this weather, Madame?”
“I just want to take one last look. I’ll be done soon.”
After Marie gave you your umbrella, you marched back out to the plot of sunflowers again.
The sunflowers were coming along nicely. They now reached the height of your hip and formed small, tightly closed buds. There were no yellow petals peeking through yet, but you were confident that they would appear in the coming weeks.
You brushed your fingers against the leaves. They were the size of your palm now. You could see little bug bites dotting them. Perhaps you should ask Marie if there were any pesticides on hand.
It was the evening hours now, though the sun had been in the sky until a few moments ago. Neuvillette should be back by now. Maybe he had a lot of work today? You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. You had been looking forward to showing him the buds.
It had been a week since the date. Neuvillette had sent the photos out to be developed, and you would be getting them today. You were a bit excited to see them. I don’t think I’ve ever taken so many pictures in my life.
After you finished taking the last measurements, you returned to the house and went up to your room. Your eyes automatically went to the plump azure flower tucked into a vase on your desk. It brought a vibrant splash of color to your elegant but sparse room, and you liked looking at it. It gave you a sense of pleasure. You wondered where Neuvillette put his flower.
I wonder if it will deflate like a balloon if I stuck a pin into the middle, you thought as you sniffed the flower’s cool fragrance. That would make it easier to press, wouldn’t it?
Perhaps it was because you talked about pressing flowers on the date, but it had been on your mind lately. Your fingers itched for your old flower press, sitting in your closet back home. The lily would look striking against a white page. If only you picked some of those wildflowers you had seen on Erinnyes and in Merusea Village... they could serve as accompaniment to the lily, which would obviously be the centerpiece, and a strand of blue leaves from the Weeping Willow could be the finishing touch, forming a wreath that framed everything neatly. It would be a beautiful memento of one of the most magical days in your life.
We picnicked together and took pictures of each other, he showed me all sorts of sights…he even held me in his arms…and I cried in front of him… Gah…
You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands. The memories of what you said and done still mortified you a week later. It had been even worse when you got home and was left alone in your bedroom. How you got to sleep that night, you didn’t know.
You would rather take a dive into the sea than cry in front of people, especially someone like Neuvillette. But on the other hand, if you had to cry, you would rather it be in front of him. Not your parents, not even your sister, but him. You weren’t sure why.
Neuvillette hadn’t said anything comforting or encouraging, and his hug was honestly a bit stiff and awkward, like he wasn’t used to doing such things. And yet, you felt as though the weight on your shoulders had been lightened just a bit. It wasn’t until then that you realized how you were barely holding yourself up by sheer force of will, like a sunflower with shallow roots and a too-heavy head, on the verge of falling over without a support.
Neuvillette never brought up that moment again, for which you were grateful. Although, even now you still couldn’t really look at him without a tingling sensation in your heart. He, on the other hand, seemed unchanged. Well, of course he would be. It would be problematic if he did start treating me differently, you told yourself.
You knew very well that you were not the type of person who people like Neuvillette would think of as a romantic partner, much less a wife. But still, after what you had observed of him and what you heard from the Melusines, you thought that it’d be nice if he did have someone like that. After the divorce, Furina would no doubt start pestering him even harder to find a spouse. It would be smart for him to start finding someone soon. He would probably have to wait a bit before remarrying, though.
Neuvillette should definitely find someone who’s more of a romantic than me, you laughed at yourself.
Unfortunately, you were out of your depth when it came to matters of matchmaking. But still, maybe you could keep an eye out for a potential partner. What was Neuvillette’s type, anyway? That would make for an interesting topic to investigate.
You decided to put this thought aside for now. Neuvillette told you that he wanted to take you to a restaurant next time. You had no idea where he would take you. His taste in food was so peculiar, after all. But you were sure that it would be a high-class, excellent restaurant, wherever it was. You would have to get some suitable clothes for the occasion. I want to make a better effort next time.
Neuvillette had given you a quite frankly exorbitant amount of spending money. Maybe it was finally time to use it.
Perhaps it’s a bit pointless…but I still want to do it.
You sat in your window seat, daydreaming about how your second “date” with Neuvillette would go as you gazed at the setting sun, now peeking out of the clouds after the sudden spell of rain had passed.
Neuvillette finally returned home by the time the sky was dark. You had already eaten dinner without him and were reading in the parlor when you heard the front door open.
“Neuvillette,” you called out to him as you went into the foyer. “You came home so late. Did something happen?”
As you approached him, you noticed how tired and tense he looked. But the fatigue in his face seemed to vanish as he fixed his eyes on you, replaced by something that was almost like relief.
“Madame,” he greeted you. “My apologies for worrying you. I had a rather busy day. I hope you’ve already eaten dinner?”
“I have. But have you eaten? If not, I can warm up the leftovers for you, or I can ask Marie to cook something fresh if that’s what you prefer.”
“I’ve already eaten, but thank you for the consideration. Have you gone out today?”
“No,” you shook your head, and Neuvillette visibly relaxed. You definitely didn’t imagine that.
But before any suspicions could form, he spoke again.
“Madame, I have a surprise for you,” he took a pause there. It took you a moment to realize that he was doing it for dramatic effect. So even he has that side to him...how cute , you thought, trying to hide your smile. “ I received the developed photos today.”
He took out an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to you. “They turned out quite well, I must say,” he added.
The envelope was thick and heavy. You must have taken more than a hundred photos.
You decided to look through them in the parlor. Neuvillette followed you, and the two of you sat side by side on the couch as you spread the photos out on the coffee table. He was right, they did turn out well. You had been a bit worried that they might come out blurry or at odd angles, but overall, they all looked pretty good, considering the fact that you hadn’t used a Kamera in a long time.
“You have a very good eye for photography, Madame,” Neuvillette remarked as he picked up a photo of the Weeping Willow. “Have you considered pursuing a career in that field?”
“Oh, not at all. My old drawing teacher was much better at it than me, enough to make a living out of it, and she taught me a few tricks.”
“‘Was’? Do you mean...” Neuvillette trailed off.
“Yes. It was a few years ago.”
“Ah...I see. I'm sorry to hear that.”
There was a brief, awkward silence. Neuvillette looked as though he wanted to say something more. You would rather not deal with that, so your eyes roamed around the scattered photos on the table until they landed on something silver. “Oh, my pictures of you!” you said, leaning forward to grab them. “See, what did I tell you, Neuvillette. There’s nothing more picturesque than beautiful scenery and a handsome man.”
Neuvillette leaned closer towards you to examine the photos for himself. His hair brushed against your shoulder, and you could feel the heat of his body against your arm. A thought suddenly struck you. If you turned your head right now, your lips would brush against his cheek in the same spot where you had kissed it before.
Inexplicably, your face turned warm at the thought. The back of your hand tingled.
Perhaps things didn’t quite remain the same after the date.
It truly had been a spur of the moment move. Your roiling emotions, aided by the instigation of the Melusines, had pushed you to do it.
Later that night, as you laid in bed, your mind replaying that scene over and over to an infuriating degree, you had rifled through all the emotions you had felt at that time. Embarrassment, disbelief, a strange sort of elation…
But the one emotion that had been missing no matter how hard you searched for it, was regret.
Overt acts of affection had never been your forte, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
Well, cheek kisses don’t inherently mean anything significant, you had told yourself. Friends do it with each other all the time. And Neuvillette is my friend. A very dear friend. So it’s perfectly fine. Case closed.
Indeed, Neuvillette didn’t seem to look at you or treat you any differently after the fact, so why should you? No doubt he was used to receiving such acts of intimacy—most likely even more intimate—from people who were far more glamorous than you. A brief brush of lips against his cheek probably meant nothing to him.
As for the hand kiss, well, that was something that gentlemen like him did. It also didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.
The thought that these kisses were all meaningless did sting a little bit, but considering the circumstances, you had no right to complain.
“I must confess that I do not see what makes these pictures any better than the ones you took of the scenery,” Neuvillette’s voice interrupted your thoughts. His eyes were fixed on the photo, so thankfully he didn’t notice your reddened cheeks. “Or of the Melusines, for that matter.”
“Well, even if you don’t appreciate them, I do. I’ll treat them like a family treasure.”
“A family treasure? That’s a bit excessive, is it not?”
“I don’t think so. These are pretty rare items, aren’t they?”
Since Neuvillette didn’t appear in public much, there were not many pictures of him outside of the rare interview and official events. Hmm, I wonder how much they’ll sell for? Not that I would ever do that, of course. …Well, maybe if I’m in dire financial straits. I’ll ask for Neuvillette’s permission beforehand if it ever comes to that.
You went through the remaining photos. Each one sparked a memory. The Weeping Willow, the sea, Merusea Village underwater—you really had been to all those places. With Neuvillette, no less. The entirety of that day was only known to the two of you.
The days after your date had been so mundane and normal that you were half-convinced that it had all been a strange dream. Thoughts and memories were such mutable things, after all. Someone like you on a date with the Chief Justice? Not even in your wildest delusions would something like that ever happen. But these pictures were proof that it did.
You knew that you would probably think back on that day for the rest of your life, holding it close to your chest like a treasured gemstone and taking it out whenever times got tough. A sparkling memory of your youth that you would smile back fondly upon in your autumn years, a lone glimmering star in the dark that would inspire you move forward…
Wait, why am I getting so sappy and sentimental? Just because of a date? Ugh, come on now.
You glanced at Neuvillette, who was currently enjoying a glass of water (imported from Inazuma). You doubted that he felt the same way as you about the date. It was probably just like a drop of water in a vast ocean to him.
That thought pricked at you, but you chose to ignore it.
You sifted through the pictures until you came across a certain snapshot. Just as you were about to flip it over, a gloved finger pressed down against the photo, stopping you.
“This one is my favorite,” Neuvillette said. Once again, his face was right next to yours, but you couldn’t read his expression.
“Because you were the one who took it?”
“No,” he said, then turned his head towards you. “Because it’s of you.”
“Neuvillette…” you said after a short silence. You fidgeted with your reddened fingertips. “I don’t understand how you can say things like that with such a straight face.”
“Is it truly so strange?” Neuvillette looked perplexed. “I was simply saying my true feelings. And it is not as though you have refrained from such comments either.”
“You do have a point,” you conceded, although that still didn’t mean it didn’t catch you off guard. You turned your attention back to the photo of you. To be honest, it didn’t turn out half bad. Sure, you looked incredibly stiff and awkward and your hair was a mess and you had no idea what you were thinking when you matched that sweater with that skirt, but…it could have turned out worse.
“May I keep this photo?” Neuvillette asked.
“Of course, but what will you do with it? Surely you aren’t going to put it on your office desk or anything, right?”
“No, of course not. I would put it in a drawer, so I may take it out and look at it whenever I like.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Is it so wrong for a husband to want to look at a picture of his wife every once in a while? Many of the Palais staff also keep pictures of their loved ones on their desks. Why shouldn’t I?” Neuvillette paused for a little bit before adding, “And it would be one way for me to see your face more often, considering how I don’t get many chances of that during the day.”
“Hmm…very well, then,” you didn’t quite get why he would want to see more of your face, but if it made him happy, then you supposed there was nothing to complain about. Neuvillette is actually quite good at this kind of thing, you thought to yourself. Just imagine what he would be like when he gets married to someone he loves.
Now you really felt bad about your (hypothetical) future plans about selling Neuvillette’s photos. I’m an insensitive boor compared to him.
You reached the last of the photos. It was the one of you and Neuvillette standing in front of the sunset.
“You made two copies for the both of us,” you said as you looked at them. “How thoughtful.”
As you gazed at the pictures, you couldn’t help but feel a complex mixture of emotions. There was a surrealness to this photo that the others lacked. If this were a novel, this would be the point where you would wake up and return to reality after discovering something out of place in your life. No matter how you looked at it, you and Neuvillette were mismatched. Two people who were only brought together because of a weird quirk of fate.
But on the other hand…it was a beautiful photo. You had been somewhat worried that the two of you wouldn’t be centered in the frame, but it turned out well. The sunset made for a lovely backdrop. Even though both of you were looking very stiff, and neither of you were smiling.
You remembered that moment clearly. In those few minutes, you felt as light as a feather, like there was nothing tying you to the ground.
Would you ever feel that way again?
“I’m also very fond of this one,” Neuvillette said next to you. When you turned your head, you saw that he was not looking at the photos, but at you. It was then that you realized you were smiling. For some reason, you turned your head away.
“I just realized something,” you said, to cover up the awkward moment. “I’ve taken so many pictures, but I’ve got nowhere to put them all.”
“Ah, about that,” there was an excitement, subdued but present, in his voice. He sounded the same as he did when he introduced you to some new exotic variety of water. “I have a surprise for you. Please, come with me to my study.”
A surprise from Neuvillette? You had an inkling as to what it could be, but that didn’t stop you from putting all the photos back in the envelope and following him upstairs to his study, a domain you had yet to step into. It was a smaller version of his office at the Palais Mermonia, with its large desk, soft rugs, and tall bookshelves that lined the walls. There was also a fireplace here and a cozy-looking couch.
As Neuvillette went to take something out of a cabinet, you covertly examined the shelves. They were mainly filled with books on law, human psychology, history (most of which you’ve already read, having borrowed them from the library), and other similarly serious topics. Oddly enough, you even spotted a few romance novels. They were the fluffy, self-indulgent kind that your mother and sister liked to read. Should I pretend I never saw them?
“Madame, here it is,” Neuvillette said, and you walked over to the desk, where there was a large, leather-bound album with metal corners.
“Oh, Neuvillette, you shouldn’t have!” you exclaimed, flipping through the album. There should be just enough space to put all the pictures from your date in it. You looked up to thank him, but was met with the sight of Neuvillette taking out yet another album from the cabinet. This one was wider, with a ribbon tied into a neat bow on the spine. Perhaps Neuvillette bought a second album, just in case the first one wouldn’t fit all your pictures?
But, as though to dash all reasonable explanations, Neuvillette took out another album from the cabinet, then another. It seemed never-ending, this deluge of albums. After a while, it became sort of funny, like a comedy sketch. You watched, open-mouthed, as the desk became covered with albums of all shapes and sizes.
Finally, after the tenth one, the deluge stopped. Neuvillette looked at you expectantly. “Well, Madame, which one do you prefer?”
“Wait a minute, let me get this right,” you said, backing up a step and surveying the desk. “You bought all these albums just for me to choose one?”
“Yes, I did,” Neuvillette said, nodding as though this was a perfectly normal thing to do. Was this how the minds of the wealthy worked? It was beyond your comprehension. “I was unsure which one would be most to your liking, so I decided to buy them all.”
“Oh, Neuvillette, you really shouldn’t have…” you said. “This is too excessive. Why didn’t you ask me to come with you when you went shopping? And you know I’d like anything you picked out for me.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise…” Neuvillette said. He looked a bit deflated, and you felt bad.
“Can you return them?”
“It would be highly inconvenient for the shopkeeper if I did so,” Neuvillette said, then added in an abashed tone, “And I was told that all sales are final.”
“How unfortunate,” you looked down at the desk again. Was it possible for anyone to fill up all these albums in their lifetime? Maybe if they had a lifespan as long as Neuvillette’s. “Maybe they could make an exception for the Iudex?”
“I would rather not use my position in such a manner.”
“Well then, how about we give them away?”
“Give them away…” Neuvillette considered your words. “I-I suppose that could work… it is a reasonable idea. Yes, quite reasonable indeed.”
Neuvillette…if only you could see the look on your face right now. He looked like a kicked puppy. However, you decided to hold your tongue.
“Hmm, on second thought, it would be quite rude of me to give away presents from my generous husband,” you said. “I’ll keep them all. Thank you, Neuvillette.”
You patted his hand. He looked down at your hand on top of his, his eyes unreadable. He lightly brushed his fingers against your own.
“You need not force yourself to accept them if you do not want them,” he said quietly.
“But I do want them. They’re from you, after all. We’ll just have to take plenty more photos to get your money’s worth.”
“‘We?’”
“Yes, ‘we.’ Did you expect me to fill up these albums all on my own?”
“Certainly, it would be more efficient if we worked together,” Neuvillette nodded to himself. “Very well, then, Madame. I will assist you in this endeavour.”
With that settled, you decided to put the date photos in the first brown leather album. It had a vintage look to it that you liked.
“It’s getting late, Madame. You should be going to bed soon,” Neuvillette informed you.
“What about you?” Neuvillette didn’t seem to be making any moves to retire for the night just yet.
“There are a few more matters that I need to take care of, but do not worry, it won’t take very long.”
“Okay then,” you nodded, stepping towards the door. But just as you were about to leave the study, you thought of something. “By the way, Neuvillette, when will we be going on that restaurant date? I know you’re quite busy these days, so I can wait as long it takes. Do you have a restaurant in mind? I’m perfectly happy to go with any one you choose. Oh, and I know I promised to attend a trial, but I’m not fond of the very loud and chaotic ones, so which of the upcoming ones would you recommend?”
“I’m afraid, Madame, that we have to put a hold on both of those arrangements. A few…unexpected matters have come up, so we will not be able to go anywhere together for a while.”
“Oh. I see. Well, I suppose it can’t be helped,” a sharp sense of disappointment pierced your heart. It seemed that you had been looking forward to it more than you expected.
“Madame, are you enjoying your life as it is right now?” Neuvillette asked you out of the blue.
“Huh? What brought this on all of a sudden?”
“Please answer my question.” There was an undercurrent of urgency in his voice.
“I…” you had to think about it for a moment. “I do. Of course I do. I never want for anything, and everyone has treated me with nothing but kindness. I can’t even begin to repay them all, really.”
“I see. Then, is this the sort of life you’d prefer to live?”
“What do you mean?”
“A quiet, peaceful life, where you are never bothered by anyone.”
“I…suppose so? I think most people would want that.”
“I see…” Neuvillette stared at his desk, seemingly deep in thought. Then, he looked up at you. “You should go to bed now. It is getting too late.”
“What…” but he was already ushering you towards the door before you could say anything more.
You observed him as he stood in the doorway. He was an unreadable cipher, but you sensed a resolve emanating from him, like he had made up his mind about something.
“Good night, Madame,” he said quietly.
“Good night, Neuvillette.”
You felt like you had to say something, but you weren’t sure what.
He saved you the effort by gently closing the study door on you. The sense of giddiness had all but completely dissipated. You felt like a deflated balloon.
Your unease wasn’t dispelled the next morning.
At the breakfast table, Neuvillette was reading the newspapers. This wasn’t unusual in itself. It was part of his morning routine. What was unusual was how intensely he was looking through them.
You looked at the headlines of the paper he was reading. There was nothing there that would warrant that deep furrow in his brow. At least, not to your knowledge. Perhaps there was some sort of secret investigation going on?
“Madame, would you like to read the paper?” Neuvillette’s voice broke through your thoughts. It was then that you realized that you had been leaning forward and squinting your eyes to read the newspaper print. “I’m nearly done with it.”
“Oh, no, I was just wondering if something happened, since you seem to be engrossed in them.”
“No,” Neuvillette paused before replying. “I was simply looking for something.”
“I see,” you said, then cut a piece of pancake and popped it into your mouth. After swallowing, you continued, “Is it work related?”
“I…would not say so,” Neuvillette said. It was strange for him to be so evasive, but maybe it was one of those things he wasn’t at liberty to tell you.
“By the way, Neuvillette, I’m going to start on the albums today. You’ve given me a great burden to carry, but I’m willing to take it on.”
You were teasing him a bit, but in truth, you were a bit excited. Your teacher had a whole shelf of albums that were filled with photos from her travels throughout Teyvat, and you had pleasant memories of flipping through them and asking her the stories behind each photo. Of course, you wouldn’t be able to replicate her on that scale, but the Court of Fontaine was as good a start as any. You had even thought up a sort of system as to which area you would cover each day and what you would photograph, which you explained to Neuvillette.
“You plan on going out into the city today, Madame?” Neuvillette asked after you finished speaking. He put down the papers and stared at you.
“Er, yes?” you answered hesitantly. He seemed strangely preoccupied with your answer. “Is there something wrong with that?”
“…No, not at all,” Neuvillette said after another pause. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. “Where do you plan to go?”
“Just the plaza…” you said, raising your eyebrows at how grave he sounded. “And maybe the Palais.”
“Do not go to the Palais,” Neuvillette spoke abruptly. His face was all seriousness. “Please, promise me that. If you have any business there, ask me. I will assist you with it.”
You stared at him, wide-eyed. “What do you mean, I can’t go to the Palais? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, of course not,” he said quickly.
“Then why can’t I go there?”
“I cannot tell you, but I assure you that I only have your safety and happiness in mind when I am asking you to not to go anywhere near the Palais. Please, Madame, promise me this.”
You stared into his violet eyes, trying to gauge what he was thinking. There was a note of desperate urgency in his voice you had only heard once before, not to mention the weightiness of his words. “I promise,” you found yourself saying.
“Thank you, Madame,” Neuvillette was visibly relieved. His shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes for a second before opening them again.
“Neuvillette, what’s going on?” you demanded. “You’re acting strange. Did something happen?”
“Do not worry. I will take care of everything,” he said, not answering your questions at all. He stood up, and you did the same, intending on getting to the bottom of this.
The two of you headed to the door. “You’re hiding something,” you said, glaring up at him. He met your gaze, then looked away. “It has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll take care of it. Please don’t worry,” he repeated, then attempted a smile. “Focus on your photography project. I cannot to wait to see the finished product. And…Madame, if you see any suspicious persons lingering around you, you must tell one of the Melusines right away.”
“Huh?” you gape at him, but he simply bid you goodbye and left the house. You watched him get into the carriage and set off.
For such a stoic man, he’s actually quite terrible at hiding his feelings at times, you thought.
Your outing at the plaza went mostly as planned. You were able to take many pictures of the fountain, the hulking Meka walking around, and the street performers. The patrolling Melusines, once you told them what you were doing, became quite enthusiastic and asked for you to take their pictures as well. It would have been a great day, if it weren’t for the gray skies and the heaviness of your heart.
Neuvillette’s behavior at home did nothing to quell it. Though he did his best to hide it, but he was obviously stressed and worn out. He would eagerly ask you about your day but seemed distracted by his thoughts as you talked, and rebuffed your questions, whether they were innocuous or direct, when you tried to probe him for answers. He came home later than usual and worked into the late nights in his study.
Over the next few days, you continued your urban outings, criss-crossing the city to take more pictures. You ate lunch outside and people-watched as you sat at your table. Often, a Melusine would join you. Being able to spend time in such a carefree, leisurely way would have been an unattainable dream to the past you, but you couldn’t enjoy it fully, not when you were always worried about Neuvillette at the back of your mind. He definitely seems more haggard these days. Is he eating well? I hope he isn’t just drinking water and passing that off as having lunch.
“Are you not hungry, Madame?” a sleepy-sounding voice broke through your reverie. It belonged to Menthe, who was sitting across from you. “You’re not eating your fish and chips.”
You looked down. The savory dish, deep-fried to a golden brown, was one of your favorite treats, but not something you ate often, and yet you found yourself with zero appetite.
“I suppose I’m not,” you sighed. “You can have it if you like.”
“Oh, really, Madame? Thank you!”
You watched as Menthe happily dug in. She had accompanied you to this café after you decided to take a lunch break.
I wonder if the Melusines are in on this too, you thought. It wasn’t unusual for Melusines to come up to you when you were walking around town, but you couldn’t help but notice that there seemed to be an awful lot of them at the places you went to. The places where you told Neuvillette you would be.
They were as cheerful and talkative as ever, but you also noticed how intently their bright gazes flitted around, even when they chatted with you, almost as though they were on the lookout for something.
You considered several possibilities and narrowed it down to two: One, there was a serial killer on the loose, or some other crazed criminal, who was after you. Two, your relationship had somehow been exposed to the paparazzi.
It was doubtful that Neuvillette would let you leave the house if there was a killer after you. And why would someone want to kill you, anyway? For marrying Neuvillette? What a lame reason for murder. Then again, some of his more extreme fans were known for their passion…
The second option seemed more likely. However, you had scoured all the tabloids for any articles on the matter, and while you did find some claiming that Neuvillette was involved with some woman or another, none of them were you (although you didn’t feel as relieved as you ought to have, for some reason). If you knew anything about these kinds of publications, it was that if they caught wind of something juicy, like the Chief Justice being in a secret relationship, they would waste no time in making that their headline, no matter how flimsy the evidence was.
Thinking back on it now, you and Neuvillette definitely hadn’t been as discreet as you could have been. The two of you had been in public together enough times that someone could get suspicious.
It would be easy to deny it though, you mused. In most of those cases, we were just talking or walking together. Just because a man and woman are together, it doesn’t mean they’re a married couple.
Whatever the case was, you wished Neuvillette would talk to you about it.
If it has something to do with me, then just tell me, you thought. You were now back home and staring up at the ceiling of your room. Why all the secrecy? It’s clearly stressing him out.
Sure, there was probably very little you could do to help, but…but…
Why are you acting so presumptuous? A small voice whispered in your mind. Didn’t Neuvillette say he would take care of everything? When will anyone ever offer to do that for you again?
Yeah, but… you argued back. I shouldn’t just sit back and do nothing! It’s unfair to him.
What does fairness mean in a relationship like this? What can you, a baron’s daughter, do for the Chief Justice of Fontaine that he can’t do for himself? If he doesn’t want you to know about something, it’s for your own good, just like last time. He clearly doesn’t expect you to do anything. What you can do to put him at ease is living your own life carefreely and supporting him at home.
But… you struggled to come up with an argument. Or maybe, you were unwilling to.
Your bed was nice and comfy, and your room was cozy. The sunlight streamed through the lace curtains of the window. If you wanted to, you could run a bath and soak in it for an hour, or read at your window seat, or ask Marie to make a snack for you. You could do anything you wanted.
You continued to lie on your bed until dinner time.
Neuvillette didn’t come home until very late at night. By that time, you were already in bed.
The next day was grayer than usual. It rained all day. As you were in no mood to undertake the challenge of photographing in the rain, you decided to stay home and brush up on your science. You had neglected your studies for far too long.
As you rifled through a notebook, you suddenly came upon a nearly blank page. It was titled “List of Neuvillette’s associates.”
You remembered writing those words all those months ago. It seemed like an eternity had passed since then. You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands again at the memories of your embarrassing behavior. It was a wonder that Neuvillette hadn’t changed his mind and married someone more well-adjusted after all that.
You glanced at the Lakelight Lily on your desk. It looked a little less plump than before, but its refreshing scent was still there. You recalled Neuvillette’s words as he put in your hair.
He was always so considerate and thoughtful. What’s more, you could tell he genuinely meant it. He never failed to ask after your comfort and health. He inquired about your family on a regular basis when he didn’t need to. He even accepted your awkward offer of friendship when he could have just ignored you.
You still had no idea what possessed him to ask you to marry him. He probably would have had an easier time if he had picked anyone else. No, not just anyone. Whoever he married should be just as kind and caring as him. Someone accomplished and beautiful. Someone who he could proudly show off in public as his spouse. Someone who could teach him the “joys of matrimony.”
But until he finds that mythical someone, he’s stuck with me.
Resolve formed in your heart.
Neuvillette came home late again that night, but this time, you stayed up. You listened to his footsteps as he went down the hallway to his study. After you heard the door close, you sat up in bed.
Okay, let’s do this, you cheered yourself on, then put on your robe and slipped out of your room.
You padded down the carpeted floor towards the study. You found yourself walking on your tiptoes for some reason.
The mahogany door seemed to you like an imposing barrier. It wasn’t too late to turn around and crawl back into bed. You were sorely tempted to.
But I’m here on a mission and I’m going to see it through no matter what, you told yourself firmly.
You raised your hand and knocked on the door. “Neuvillette,” you called out. “May I come in? I would like to speak with you.”
A scraping sound came from inside. “Madame?” Neuvillette said as he opened the door. “What are you doing up so late?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but your jaw remained hanging open as you took in the sight before you.
Forearms. The words popped into your mind out of nowhere. Neck.
Neuvillette’s usual long blue robes were nowhere to be found. For that reason, he was only wearing a white dress shirt, and his hair was unbound. That wasn’t what made you speechless. You had seen him in that state plenty of times before. No, what stunned you was the fact that his sleeves were rolled up and that the first two buttons of his shirt were undone. Without his clothing obscuring them, you were able to feast your eyes on the sight of his sinewy arms and the smooth, unblemished skin at the juncture between his neck and collarbones.
He was usually so covered-up, even at home, that seeing so much of his skin exposed felt akin to seeing him naked. Oh no, don’t think about that, don’t think about that…
“Madame? Madame, is something the matter?” Neuvillette’s voice broke through your thoughts, which were heading in a rather dangerous direction. To your extreme embarrassment, you realized that your mouth was hanging open slightly. No wonder he looked so concerned. I feel like a giant pervert. No, I am one!
“Um, er…it’s nothing!” your voice came out in a higher octave. You took a step backward. This is just wonderful.
“Are you sure? Your face looks a bit red,” Neuvillette stood up. “You shouldn’t be staying up so late, especially if you might be sick.”
“Oh, no, no, I assure you, I am definitely not sick, not at all,” you babbled, even as the words “forearms” and “neck” danced through your head. “I really just wanted to talk to you. It’s urgent.”
“If it’s urgent, then please come in,” Neuvillette gestured for you to enter his study. His shirt shifted slightly with the movement, exposing a sliver more of his chest. You wanted to cover your eyes.
You entered the study. Neuvillette sat back down in his chair and looked at you. You looked at him. Or rather, you looked at the air above him.
“Madame, what is this urgent matter you wish to discuss with me?” he asked. He looked terribly concerned, and you didn’t blame him. The way you were acting right now was definitely a cause for worry.
“I…um…want to…uh…you know…” you gestured with your hands. “I want to…brush your hair! Yes, brush your hair. I’ve noticed how…dishevelled it gets when you come home, so I would like to fix that. Yes, that’s it.”
“You…wish to brush my hair?” Neuvillette repeated, sounding confused.
You nodded vigorously. “And talk,” you added.
“I see,” he still looked confused, but he stood up and went to the door. “I shall go get my hairbrush, then.”
“Please do so,” you said, and watched him go to his room. Once he was gone, you buried your face in one of the pillows on the couch and screamed.
What was going on with you? Why were you getting so worked up over skin? It wasn’t as though you were some sheltered maiden who never saw shirtless men before. And Neuvillette wasn’t even shirtless! And just what would he look like without his shirt on, anyways?
“Stop it,” you told yourself. “Stop it right now. Think about something else.”
“Pardon me, Madame?” Neuvillette’s voice made you jolt upright. “Did you say something? And why are you lying on the couch?”
“It’s nothing,” you quickly got up and clasped your hands together, making yourself the picture of composure and self-possession, ignoring the voice in your head that told you it wasn’t too late to excuse yourself and run back to your room. “Please forget what you just saw. I am perfectly fine.”
You held out your hand for the hairbrush, and Neuvillette gave it to you after some hesitation. The hairbrush was silver, its back carved with a swirling design. It was heavy and cool in your hand. You tried to picture Neuvillette brushing his hair with it every morning, like a princess in a fairytale, and had to suppress a (most likely crazed-looking) smile.
He sat down in his chair, and you stood behind him. You slowly ran the brush through his silver locks, careful not to touch his horns. You did this in silence for a few moments. It had a strangely calming effect on you—you felt your heartbeat settling down, your mind becoming clearer. The fact that you couldn’t see his face was also helpful.
“Neuvillette,” you began. “I know that you’ve been hiding something from me. I would like you to reveal it to me.”
You heard him let out a sigh. He tried to turn his head, but you prevented him from doing so. “Madame, I have already explained to you that it is nothing for you to worry about. Please allow me to take care of it. It was caused by my own oversight in the first place.”
“I am allowing you to take care of it. But I would still like to know what it is.”
“It will only distress you, and I do not wish to do that.”
“I will be the judge of what distresses me. And besides, seeing you obviously so troubled by this matter already makes me feel wretched, so there is really nothing to lose here.”
“My apologies. I will work harder to mask my feelings as to not affect your mood.”
“Neuvillette, that’s not the point I’m making,” you groaned as you worked to loosen a particularly tough tangle in his hair. “Right now, not knowing what’s troubling you is causing me more distress than whatever this mysterious ‘something’ is.”
“I do not believe you would think the same way once you learned what it is.”
“How do you know that?” you asked. Realizing that you had raised your voice, you quickly softened it. “Let me put this another way. This is how I’m repaying you.”
“Repaying me?”
“Yes. For listening to me, for allowing me to cry into your arms on our date. Do you know, Neuvillette, that it’s been a long time since I was able to vent my feelings to someone like that? I’ve forgotten how nice it feels. It…really saved me. And I want to do the same thing for you. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do anything, but it’s easier to come up with a solution when you’re discussing things with someone else, isn’t it?”
Neuvillette didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. But you could tell that he was wavering. You picked up the ends of his long hair and brushed them. You needed to give him one last push.
“If you don’t inform me about matters that are related to me, then I see no reason why I should tell you anything more about myself.”
“Madame, what are you implying?” there was a note of what almost sounded like panic in Neuvillette’s voice.
“That’s right. If you do not tell me your secret, I shall not speak to you ever again for the remainder of our marriage. You will lose the privilege of conversing with me.”
You had expected him to let out a chuckle or something. You hadn’t meant it seriously. Well, maybe a little. You were feeling a bit frustrated.
What you didn’t expect was that he would wrench himself out of your grip and turn around to face you. His lips were pressed together tightly, but his eyes were wide. His gaze burned through you.
“I will tell you,” he said, voice almost too calm. “So please reconsider. It will pain me greatly if you go through with it.”
“I won’t,” you said, caught off guard.
He turned back around. After taking a pause, he told you about the photo Furina obtained, and the ultimatum she gave him. You listened to him intently as he talked, brushing the bottom half of his hair and occasionally untangling snarls.
After he finished speaking, you took a few minutes to digest what you’ve just heard.
“So, no one else except Lady Furina has that photo?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t believe that she would lie or go back on her promise?”
“In this matter, I do not believe she would.”
“I see,” you put down the brush, then moved yourself to meet Neuvillette’s eyes. “Then, I agree to the meeting. I think that’s the most reasonable thing to do here. In hindsight, we should have done it a long time ago. It would have saved us all this trouble.”
“You agree to it?” Neuvillette repeated, sounding stunned.
“Well, it was either this or let Lady Furina dig up my sordid past and do whatever she wants with that information, right? Besides, what’s so scary about a meeting? Plenty of people from all walks of life have made appointments with her, including my own great-grandparents. If they could do it, so can I. And I’ll have you there with me, so there’s really nothing to worry about.”
“But once she meets you face-to-face, you will become known to her. You will not be able to live the peaceful life that you desire.”
Oh, so that’s why he asked that question, you thought.
“Well, we don’t know that, do we? For all we know, once she meets with us, she would judge that we are a perfectly uninteresting couple and leave us alone for the rest of the year.”
“That is unlikely to happen,” Neuvillette murmured. “And what if she discovers our arrangement?”
“She won’t if we don’t do anything that would reveal it to her. You know the saying, ‘Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.’ As long as we don’t do anything that would make her want to go through the records in the license office, we should be fine.” A thought suddenly struck you. “She can’t…prevent us from divorcing, can she? Or force us to remarry?”
“There are no laws that grant her the powers to do those things. But, I expect that she could make life difficult for you, should she choose to do so.”
“Hmm…” you thought. “Well, I’ll just think about what to do when that time comes.”
“Madame,” Neuvillette rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t be so irresponsible about your own future. This is why I did not wish to tell you. I did not want you to push yourself needlessly for my sake.”
“Push myself needlessly? I see things differently. There’s no guarantee that things will go smoothly, but that’s just life, isn’t it? All I know is that if we don’t do anything, it will most likely turn out badly for us. So I would rather choose the other option.”
You sounded braver than you felt. In this cozy, quiet study with Neuvillette, where you were the only people who would ever know the words exchanged in this room, it was easy to feel self-assured and optimistic about the unknown. Perhaps this was also its own sort of danger.
But when you looked at Neuvillette’s worried face, you found it easier to feel brave.
“Neuvillette, do you remember the promise I made to you on that first night? I promised to make sure that your life is as inconvenienced as possible. This is how I’m trying to fulfill it. Will you allow me to do that?”
“You need not go that far. You have never inconvenienced me, not even now. In fact, you have been a reassurance. It was due to my folly that we got into this situation in the first place.”
“If it was your folly, then it was mine as well. I should have also been paying attention,” you let out a sigh. “Look, Neuvillette, we can go around in circles about this all night, but when you get down to it, it is for situations like these that you married me. You didn’t marry me because you liked me in that way. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know it’s true. If I don’t do my part, then I’m just a freeloader living in your house, right?”
“I have never thought of you as a ‘freeloader’… I have always considered you as my wife,” Neuvillette said curtly, but then he smiled at you gently. “You’ve made some very good points. You are correct. It was irresponsible of me to hide it from you. I still have much to learn when it comes to how a husband ought to behave, it seems.”
A warm, tingling feeling spread through your body when you heard his words. He thought of you as his wife. Well, of course he did, since you were officially married and all. But hearing him call you “my wife” was an entirely different thing.
“That’s my job, as your wife. To discuss problems and come up with solutions with you. And from now on, please tell me whenever you’re feeling troubled over something. I’m inadequate in many things, but I’ve been told that I’m a good listener,” you said, fiddling with your fingers. You felt your mouth stretching into a wide smile for no reason and looked down to hide it.
“I will. My apologies for all the distress I’ve caused you. I will tell Furina tomorrow about our decision.”
You and Neuvillette held each other’s gazes for longer than was necessary. In the dim light of the study, his eyes looked darker, obscuring his slitted pupils. You felt weak-kneed all of a sudden. You realized that you had been running on adrenaline until now, but you didn’t feel sleepy. In fact, you were wide awake.
“Will you go to bed now?” he asked. His voice was lower, huskier than usual.
You shook your head. “Will you?”
“I still have some work to do.”
“Then I’ll stay up with you. Since I’m your wife and all.”
Neuvillette looked like he was about to argue, but you went over to one of the bookshelves and took out a history book, then went to curl up on the couch. “Feel free to disregard me,” you said, opening the book.
After a few seconds, you heard an exhale, then the resuming of a pen scratching against paper.
You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but when you woke up, you were in your bed with the comforter neatly pulled up to your chin. You were quite sure you had a dream, but didn’t recall its contents except for the instinctive knowledge that it was a good one.
You also had the vague memory of feeling something warm brushing against your forehead, but it was so brief and fleeting that it might have been part of the dream as well.
synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.
warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it
a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭
“Am I bad person?”
Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.
"What?"
And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head.
It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”
His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.
Soobin.
Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.
Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with.
Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.
"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"
You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression.
He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."
“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.
Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.
Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge?
“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”
You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.
He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.
You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type.
But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.
“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“
“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.
Really, why were you so concerned now?
Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different.
Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.
Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile.
Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.
He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.
In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.
“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“
Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”
“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.
You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.
Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?
Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."
"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.
He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."
—-
You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.
Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.
He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.
He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.
But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.
You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.
And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.
You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.
But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.
It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.
Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.
And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.
Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.
Soobin was different though, special.
You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.
He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.
—-
"Fuck," he panted, "please,"
The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.
"Please,"
Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.
"Please."
"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.
Close enough.
"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"
He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.
"I need it~"
The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"
Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"
He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.
He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.
Not with you in the next room.
He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.
Because he would only focus on you.
You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.
But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.
He wanted to hear you.
Not some substitute for the real thing.
He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.
Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.
"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.
You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.
You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.
"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"
Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.
Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.
Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.
"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."
Fuck, so that was what it was.
His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.
You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.
God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.
Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.
But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.
In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.
You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.
He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.
You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.
God, that’s what he needed right now.
Needed you.
Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.
Not you fucking someone else in a different room.
Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.
"More."
He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.
It wasn’t enough, not nearly
"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"
He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.
He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.
“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.
"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.
"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"
He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.
More.
"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.
He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.
"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.
"Your's." He moans in reply.
And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.
Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.
But it doesn't matter.
Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.
Up,
"Slut." You whisper.
and down,
"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.
over,
"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.
and over,
"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.
harder,
"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.
faster,
"Mine." Across his cheek.
deeper.
Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-
"-Cum for me baby,"
And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.
Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.
"Fuck,"
And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"
a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭
This time, I just summed up some questions about your AU Exorcists
1. Since Lute's and Adam's personalities are different in Sinners Symphony, I suppose that the morale in the army is different from canon, far closer to "We do what has to be done" instead of the usual "Haha, die you little b@#es. I'm at 261 now, how about you?" Am I correct?
2. How do the Exorcists fight? Now we know that in your AU Blessed weapons are insanely overpowered (sinners are crying for a nerf constantly), I wonder if the soldiers still fight open and without cover just to mindlessly kill a bunch of sinners or if the ladies have more discipline in this?
3. And lastly, two questions in one, do the Exorcists leave behind their weaponry like in canon? Since if not, Carmilla Carmine would probably not become an overlord, or at least have far lower than in canon, since the weapons would be super rare and far more difficult to manipulate with, resulting in less employees, resulting in less deals, resulting in less power.
Have a great day/night. Richard.
And by the way, Sir Pentious in Sinners Symphony when?
Yes the exterminators are a well trained and disciplined unit of soldiers, some lieutenants are even trained by Azrael himself, they do not take pleasure or enjoyment from their work or see it as a game, they do what needs to be done, nothing more and nothing less. There is discipline in the army like in today's armies, the soldiers respect their superiors very much and obey their orders under all circumstances.
Lute is the most skilled exterminator at the moment, in fact she was personally trained by Azrael and is the closest exterminator to Azrael. Lute has the greatest respect for Azrael and will not hesitate to punish anyone who insults him.
War styles:
I haven't designed it yet, but I'll try put a sketch here. Exterminators are divided into 3 different classes
Seraphic Smitebringers (Divine Strikers): These warriors are equipped with heavy weapons that reflect the power of the heavens.
Celestial Swiftwings: This group is known for the speed of their wings, descending upon their enemies like lightning.
Ethereal Vanguard: These warriors combine both powerful blows and swift movement to create a versatile force on the battlefield, but they are neither as fast as Swiftwings nor as powerful as Smitebringers.
Weapons they use
For Seraphic Smitebringers:
Divine Retributors: Great, luminous hammers that echo like thunder with each strike.
Judgment Hammers: Mighty war hammers, adorned with gold and silver, representing fair judgment.
For Celestial Swiftwings:
Heavenly Katanas: Long, slender swords that slice through enemies with speed and grace.
Windscythes: Light and sharp sickles that harness the power of the wind.
For Ethereal Vanguard:
Astral Lances: Spears made of stardust, effective at both near and far range.
Balance Blades: Two-sided blades that offer the perfect balance of power and speed.
The exterminators don't leave their weapons in hell as in the canonü (1. they don't leave a weapon in hell that can kill them 2. the weapons of the exterminators are made in a customized way, they have a spiritual value. 3 even if they leave it, nothing much changes, a sinner cannot touch it)
Carmilla is an arms dealer again. (Like Tony did before he became Iron Man), she is a weapon merchant, her power comes from the quality and uniqueness of the weapons she made in this AU, not from angelic weapons. she is still a 2nd place overlord, after all, Pride Ring is a battlefield and a battlefield needs weapons
+ Carmilla has destroyed all of her rivals, no one else in Pride Ring can enter the weapon trade because they are destroyed directly by Carmilla. so Carmilla's power is still the same, nothing has changed in the level.
cw: very basic talk about mental health and ocd, can be triggering so be aware.
Three people said I should share my headcanons so here I am, first of all what's ocd? OCD is the acronym for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, a mental disorder that affects daily life making the person have intrusive thoughts that distress them and lead to compulsive behavior like the ones I'll be talking now.
Why do I headcanon that Hannibal has OCD?
through the series Hannibal shows a lot of subtle ticks, changes of behaviors, change of tones, subtle facial expressions that really made me realize that he has a lot of moments where their thoughts seem to fight his actions, something I feel a lot when I'm on a bad day, and I have a great amount of ocd symptoms (another undiagnosed thing, thanks argentinian healthcare) and so I made headcanons about it I won't extend to much on this.
What kind of OCD could distress Hannibal Lecter?
I know I know, a cannibalistic serial killer seen to be feeding his intrusive thoughts, but I don't think so, Hannibal's ocd has nothing to do with killing, hurting, made anything unmoral, Hannibal's OCD lays on dirtiness and rudeness.
Hannibal hates rude people, he hated rudeness as a whole and same thing with dirtiness, but not necessarily as something that's inherently bad, but something that he could never be and disgusts him profoundly.
What kind of intrusive thoughts does he have?
I've been thinking on a few and his consecuences.
Screaming in the middle of a lecture with other professionals, it distressed him to the point he stopped going.
Talking too loud or aggressive to someone else, he never ever raised his voice and sometimes even talked in whispers.
Yawning in the Opera, he ends up with his hand bleeding because he pinch himself from time to time to avoid it.
Forgetting his plastic suit, he can't even remember how many times he looked at himself, he knows he's wearing it, it can be so frustrating that he sometimes had to walk back and make sure of it twice plus times.
Being rude himself, sometimes his brain will scream insults and curses and he would go purposefully mute to avoid saying those words out loud.
Accidentally throwing garbage out of the trashcan, he has to make sure a lot even when he knows he did throw it in place.
What about Will rudeness?
I think Hannibal found Will's rudeness endearing because he was pretty not gonna lie, still there's moments when he seems about to correct him, but he doesn't, because for him correcting an adult man on his manner would show rudeness on his part.
Thank you for reading !
I'm one of those people who like to think a lot and I can't help but spiraling on some headcanons, maybe this could gave you all some fanfics ideas too.
Honestly, I spent much of the week coping with storm migraines. You can tell, because I was reblogging a lot from under a cold compress rather than doing anything useful with life.
Reblogs of interest
The Hot Vintage Lady Polls are rough out there, y’all. Round three started closing yesterday (see what’s still open here), and as of this writing, we have lost Bette Davis, Alla Nazimova, Theda Bara, Myrna Loy, Barbra Streisand, Fay Wray, Lucille Ball, Ginger Rogers, and Olivia de Havilland--and it looks like Catherine Deneuve, Clara Bow, Lana Turner, and Mary Pickford are on their way out. Meanwhile, I learned about a ton of actresses I’d never heard of before, only to shriek when Sharmila Tagore, Nadira, and Waheeda Rehman lost this round. (Edwige, I will never forget you.)
Let me remind you (and me sometimes, too): Not everyone has the same taste or childhood attachments or cinema experiences as you. And everybody in this bracket loses. Everybody but one.
(I can tell I’m not cut out for brawling because I’m like, “I will be very sad to see Norma Shearer go, but Hazel Scott seems nice!”)
--
“Actually, Mr. Musk, I am an attorney. Do you know that?” Here’s the highlights of Mark Bankston, the man who brought down Alex Jones, coping with Elon Musk and Elon Musk’s Lawyer, who is not even licensed in Texas, for 100 pages of deposition.
Hozier Watch 2024: “Too Sweet” has now charted higher in the UK than “Take Me to Church,” and it’s getting real close on the US charts. This is a song that didn’t even make last year’s album. I am endlessly fascinated.
Happy Leland Melvin Day!
Happy Neil Banging Out the Tunes Day!
“Posting endless DNIs because we can’t (or don’t know we can) make spaces just for the people we do want to interact with” actually makes a lot of sense in this centralized social media hellscape.
There is a 20k mg weed gummy and nobody needs that. “Forget meeting the Hat Man this is what turns you into the Hat Man. This is worse than that torture drug that makes you experience 600 billion years in a second. This is the secret to honest to god shifting.”
One of the best uses of the Kate Beaton Poe comic I’ve ever seen
“Americanisms that tell you to check on your American” (they are all correct)
“Tuxedo Mask is the first example of being ‘Kenough’”
Just this once, I will allow this AI rendition of a “traditional Polish family” and their traditional Polish woodchuck.
I am absolutely not saying there is anything wrong with being into tentacles; I’m just saying that Pyramid Head doesn’t even have them and thus is a pretty tame choice to complain about.
Little Guy, a game
A cursèd chair called “Oops!”
Sparrow Tarot: Honestly, this is one of my favorite takes on the Hanged Man.
This dog is a biscuit and she is precious
Video
One of the things that’s so great about this Ilia Malinin free-skate program is, he makes it look so effortless that I would have never figured out on my own, without Tumblr’s commentary, that there’s a couple moves in here that no one in the world can do but him. Like, the very first jump and the announcers start screaming.
A journey from fearing moths to raising them
A dude puts on a dress For the Meme and then discovers that he loves it (and then he styles it as a full outfit and it looks SO GOOD)
Watching this cat ride around on a roomba on a sped-up surveillance camera is self-care.
So is this (although it’s a bit strobe-y)
Bat type: hi doggy
Was the jello for the tuna salad lamb supposed to be lime?
The sacred texts
Holy Shit, Two Cakes
The origin of “Me, an intellectual”
#AllMyLifeIHadToFight
Personal tag of the week
Designer Roberto Cavalli, who passed away this week at age 83. I reblogged several fashion posts--I hadn’t even realized myself that he had designed Beyoncé’s famous yellow dress in Lemonade.
Childish giggles from Luffy were interrupted by Zoro's voice.
"Luffy who is she?" He asked the question everyone was wondering about.
"Well everyone, this is my sister, y/n" he finally answered.
"You had a sister!?" Nami exclaimed.
"Hehe, sorry I didn't mention her earlier" Luffy mumbled out an apology.
Before the crew could say anything the girl spoke first.
"I'm Y/n, Monkey D Y/n" she introduced herself, the crew was inquired by her bold yet cold introduction.
"And your our captain's sister?" Ussop said curiously.
"Yes, I am her sister" she responded, her voice was deep and firm.
"Who old are you?" Zoro continued the interview session.
"Twenty-four" she replied making that crew's eyes widened, she was older than anyone in the crew!.
"Huh?" Nami said, looking like a deer staring at an incoming car.
Before y/n could respond in a annoyed tone Luffy spoke up.
"She's my older sister guys and she's going to join the crew" Luffy said confidently, making y/n dumbfounded.
"What?" She said, now making her look like a deer staring at an incoming car.
"Hm? You don't want to join?" Luffy asked.
"But- why?" She asked, more concerned than curious.
"What do you mean why? Your my sister! I need you!" He said with a cheerful smile.
"Okay okay" y/n mumbled, still kinda confused, but her thoughts were disturbed by the orange haired girl's voice.
"Welcome to the crew! I'm Nami" she spoke with a welcoming tone.
"This is Zoro, the right hand man of the crew and also the first mate" she continued.
"And this is Ussop, the shooter" she said.
"And finally, this is Sanji, the perverted cook" she said teasingly.
The captain's sister scoffed.
"That explains a lot" she said, getting a smirk from Sanji.
★time skip to the going Mary★
A sighed escaped Luffy's lips as he started into the purple-red sky, it was beautiful but he was bored, he's pout turned into a hopeful smile as he felt a presence beside him, it was Zoro.
"I'm still suprised that you invited your sister into the crew" Mosshead said also staring at the sky.
"You don't know what she did for me" Luffy spoke in a calm voice, making Zoro inquired.
"What did she do huh?" Zoro said finally turning he's gaze to Luffy.
Luffy sighed as he continued.
"Growing up, we had a abusive step-mother, she used to always abuse us in different ways, well y/n also took the abuse, and always protected me, Ace and Sobo. And the thing is y/n never ever broke down but I know she is always suffering inside. She's a responsible older sister." Luffy said, not wanting to tear up in front of he's bestfriend.
Zoro took a while to process the disturbing information, he's mind went blank as he heard the story, y/n was actually a good person inside..
"Oh" that was the only word that passed he's mouth.
"Well, let's go have dinner before Sanji gets annoyed" Luffy spoke.
"Yeah..." Zoro replied.
Now the crew was in the kitchen, peacefully eating, Luffy was talking to Sanji, Nami was giggling with Ussop, which leaves Zoro and y/n.
Zoro leaned back on the chair, he's gaze on Y/n.
"If you're going to keep staring at me, at least tell me what you want" she said looking him up and down.
Zoro scoffed."Can't I even look at my crewmates?" He said sarcastically.
"You're not even looking anymore, you're straight up watching my every move" she said with the same sarcastic tone as him.
Zoro just scoffed in response, he's mind wondering why this girl is so careless and bold.
After dinner, everyone said they're goodnights and went to their cabins.
Y/n stepped into her cabin, putting her guns on the table and lied on the hammock, eventually falling asleep.
Tomorrow is going to be fun, well maybe.
Author's note: sorry guys if this is boring, I'll make part 3 fun, also tell me what you think about this ff. Sooooo sorry guys I mistakenly put part 3 but this is part 2