#gil: 'so how are you doing today'

[softquietsteadylove]

drama for the runaway bride au: A man from the nearby village has seen Thena at Gilgameshs little forest house and informed royal guards who informed the King and now they're standing in front of Gilgameshs door again and invite themselves in and they're dragging Thena back to the castle

Gil smiled down at the flowers in his hand. Thena would love them--they were soft and white and lovely, just like her. He would put them in some water when he got home, maybe after dinner. Thena was probably chopping vegetables this very second. She was getting better at it.

It had been almost a year since she found him--or since he found her, maybe it was better to say. The beautiful bride he found hiding in a tree trunk was no longer a lost little fawn. She had come to learn everything that was required to keep the house in good order. She had taken over those duties all together when he'd been injured.

The cabin was as much hers as it was his, as far as he was concerned.

And it was high time he tell her as much, too. Maybe it was silly to do something so formally when she had indeed lived alongside him all this time. He often blushed to remember that they even shared a bed. But he felt he had to say something--let her know just how important it was to him that she was here.

"No, let go of me!"

The flowers dropped from Gil's hand. He took off in a run, his feet slipping faintly as he charged towards the house, a royal carriage parked out front.

"Get off me!" Thena screamed, so unlike her usual self. But she was a force to be reckoned with, clawing and thrashing, teeth bared like a wild animal.

"Your highness, please," the men pleaded with her.

"Let her go!" Gil bellowed before he could even think about it. All he knew was that he could see Thena being taken away, and he had to stop it. "Get away from her!"

"The lumberjack is back!"

"Stop him!"

"He has a weapon!"

"No!" Thena pulled against the suits of armour holding each of her arms. "No, don't hurt him!"

Gil slid to a stop, holding his axe but eyeing the line of royal soldiers with their swords pointed at him. "What do you think you're doing with her?"

"The princess is coming with us!"

"Like hell she is," he snarled at them. He would fight all of them, outnumbered or not, if he had to. "You're not going anywhere with my Thena."

"Gil!" she cried out for him. She managed to pull away from her captors, shoving the men out of her way until she could stand in front of him. "Enough!"

"Your highness, move!" the frontmost man barked at her.

"No!" she barked right back at him (that was his Thena). "Or would you rather report to my father than you've run me through trying to capture an innocent man?"

The guards did lower their weapons, although it didn't do much to make Gil feel better about the whole thing. The captain glared at him. "He is no innocent man, your highness. The lumberjack stands accused of kidnapping and holding the princess hostage."

"There is no such crime," Thena stated, although it seemed that - princess or not - her word didn't weigh as much as it should to the men facing them.

"His majesty has been searching, my lady," the captain scowled at her, still standing in front of Gil to protect him. "For nigh on a year, now."

It was a year this very day, actually.

"Then tell him you've found me," Thena challenged, her shoulders squared and her braid sliding off her shoulder and down her back. "Tell him you've found me and that I refuse to return."

The other guards looked between themselves. They were just men following orders, doing their jobs, trying to feed themselves and their families.

"I cannot, your highness."

"Well I won't be going with you, so you may pick which is a worse fate," Thena snipped at him, grasping Gil's hand behind her. "But if a hair on this man's head is hurt, I will have the lot of you executed."

Gil blinked. The men didn't seem to take her all that seriously, but he would be trembling in his armour if he were in their shoes. They hadn't seen her furious at the end of a long day when he'd forgotten to wipe his muddy boots off yet again.

"Princess Thena," the captain resumed his attempt at reasoning with her. He stepped forward, hand on his chest (and off his weapon). "Not only your father but your fiance the prince has also-"

"I have no fiance, captain," Thena cut him off without even batting an eye. "And if there is a snivelling pup inhabiting the castle saying he is, then I mourn for the days of your honour as a royal guard."

Damn, she really had a way with words, especially when they were insulting.

"My lady, I implore you," the captain bent at the waist and bowed to her. "I am not to return without you, sworn on my life."

Thena sighed. She wouldn't be responsible for something like that--she refused to be. Gil gave her hand a squeeze, "captain?"

"Highness?" he peeked up at her, a little too eager for how little time had passed.

"If my father has threatened you all with death," she held her head high. "Then I suggest you run away."

The men paled.

"These forests are deep. You could find the village, start anew, take your families and leave the prison my father calls a castle. But I will not return there with you, and if your lives depend on me doing so, then I am telling you now to save yourselves."

"Highness," another guard interjected, although Gil got the sense that he wasn't really allowed to speak up so freely. "If it's about the lumberjack, perhaps your father would employ-"

"Silence!"

Gil shrank slightly, and he was behind her! The men facing them flinched.

"My father," she said it like she would talk about hay mould, or spiders, or wild boars. Her eyes locked with the guard, "is not fit to stand in the same room as the man behind me."

"H-Highness-"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Princess," the captain took the reins again, his voice raising. "I have been ordered to bring you back. And I regret to inform you that I am to use any means necessary to do so."

"Truly?" she didn't back down from the threat, but still stood close enough to Gil that no one would be able to approach him without her being in the way. "Would you tie me up and kidnap me, captain? Would you apprehend the crown princess?"

"If I must, my lady," he informed her with an equal lack of remorse. "I was ordered to retrieve you, alive, but by no means was I told to do so with gentility. And if I must bring you back by force, then so be it."

Gil gripped his axe again. He didn't like where this was headed. Thena backed up into him even more, pressing her back to his chest. Her hand gripped the handle of his axe, throwing off his grip. She didn't want him to fight.

"I'm sure my resistance will be attributed to my so called 'kidnapper' fighting you off?" Thena assumed aloud.

"Aye," the captain confirmed.

"Then I must tell you..."

Gil held his breath same as the guards did. He didn't know what she had up her sleeve, but it had better be good. It really seemed like everyone's lives were depending on it.

"That I have already married him."

What was that now?

The men traded looks, most horrified, a few more curious than anything. The captain looked positively flushed with rage. "I beg your pardon."

"I have married this man," Thena proclaimed like it was nothing. She wound their fingers together.

"Each and every marriage must be officiated properly, your highness." The captain looked mortified, but in an angry way. "Your father will never recognise it as a lawful union."

"Then I suppose you will have to go and tell him regardless."

"Thena," he breathed against her hair. He wasn't sure if this would only invite more trouble down the line or not, especially considering it was a bold faced lie. But he went with it.

"That his daughter has run off and had a bastardisation of a marriage in the woods with some lowly peasant?!"

Gil huffed; he wasn't rich by any means, but he wasn't sure if he was a peasant, either. He had just worked at the castle not two weeks ago!

"Yes," she persisted, "tell him exactly that, or anything else. But he may know that I love the man I am with, and that I will not return to his gilded cage to be sold like chattel."

The captain sighed deeply. If looks could kill, he would be on trial for regicide, "if that is what her highness wishes."

"It is an order."

As if the word 'order' were a magic spell, the men all snapped up straighter, heels together. "Ma'am!"

"Then we must inform the king," the captain declared, pulling back his tiny battalion to deliver truly terrible news.

"I wish you luck," Thena sent them off with the snide wish, crossing her arms as they loaded into the carriages again. She kept glaring until they were dragging themselves off the beaten path and back to the main road again.

Gil let out a breath once they were out of sight. He leaned on his knees, heart hammering, "wow."

Thena also sighed, turning around to face him. "I suppose we will have to be prepared for the possibility that the magistrate will come knocking next."

"Uh, Thena?"

"Perhaps Eros will come with some fake document to state that I am not legally allowed to marry anyone but him," she continued, rolling her eyes and sorting out her braid again, "like a land deed."

"Thena," Gil tried again.

"As much as I never want to see him again, I would pay any price to see the image of my father's face when he finds out his crown jewel has-"

"Thena!" he interrupted, not at all yelling at her but certainly not keeping quiet anymore. He stood to his full height again, smiling at her, "married, are we?"

Finally faced with the consequences of her lie, she looked down at the ground between them, quickly flushing rouge. "U-Uh, w-well-"

"Wish I had known," he chuckled, trying to get a peek at her face, "I'd have gotten you a gift, darling."

She squirmed, toying with the edge of her apron (which none of the guards noticed was literally made from her once-wedding dress). "I had to think of something they couldn't argue with me about."

"No, I guess you were right," Gil chuckled, throwing his arm over her shoulders and pulling her closer, "now I just have to worry about your dad busting down my door, huh?"

"Please," she scoffed at the very idea, "Father hasn't set food outside the castle in well over two decades. I think he would sooner write me off as missing and deceased than lift a finger to verify it himself."

Gil wasn't sure if that was so true, but he couldn't do anything but take her word for it at the moment. He kissed her forehead, "are you okay?"

She sighed, leaning against his chest, tugging at the suspenders over his flannel shirt. "I tried to hide again but they circled the house and took me. I was worried...I thought you wouldn't-"

"Hey, okay, sh," he whispered, pressing his nose to her temple as she sniffed back her tears. He had been scared of that very thing. "It's okay, nothing like that is gonna happen."

Neither of them could guarantee that.

Thena put her hands on his hips, while he did the same for her. "I'm sorry to lie like that."

He shook his head. He didn't mind it nearly as much as she thought he did. Maybe he minded that it wasn't actually true, but that was for a later date. "It is our anniversary, actually."

Thena smiled, their foreheads meeting gently. She rose on her toes, just enough to touch her lips to his, "happy anniversary, my sweet lumberjack."

#Thenamesh Runaway Bride AU #drama it is my dearest! #I love a touch of drama really #in case you couldn't tell that I was a filthy theater kid in school #well not filthy #we were all awkward little weirdos by the time I was in anything #anyway I'm glad this au really stuck with people #it's become more popular than I thought it would #but I always enjoy that #Gil comes home now like hey honey I'm home! #Thena's okay all right settle down #he asks how his lovely wife is doing today #she's like put me out of my misery #meanwhile they still sleep together #which would have been Thena's next point of argument if it were necessary #not that they've done anything but sleep #but if she must tell them that she gets down and dirty with this man every night then so be it

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

can i request a one shot where reader has been friends with everyone in cousins for a while and has been around to see everything happen (susannah dying, the love triangle between belly, conrad and jere). fast forward to when conrad leaves the motel, he goes to reader after and they end up falling for eachother over time and reader shows conrad the love and support he deserves, and understands what he’s going through💞

A bit short, but I'm in a spooky autumn mood and these characters scream summer. Please send spooky/autumn requests

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’She chose him and now I can’t fucking breathe,’’ Conrad said as you sat together on your couch. He rubbed his chest with the heel of his palm and your heart shattered. 

He had showed up at your door unannounced a little over an hour ago, backpack over his shoulder and looking like he'd been run over by a truck. His eyes were red, like he had been crying. You took him inside without asking questions, knowing he needed a shoulder to lay his tired head on. 

You listened as Conrad recounted everything that happened since they took the road to Brown. His plan to tell Belly he still loved her. The kiss against his car. The motel. 

‘’I gave her so many signs that I still loved her, but she didn't hear me. She could have turned this around and we could have fixed our relationship, but she chose Jere. So I let her go.’’ 

You reached out to squeeze his hand, the one that wasn’t on his chest. 

The situation between Belly and the Fisher boys was incredibly messy. She was your friend and you could understand that feelings were difficult at that age, but juggling between Conrad and Jeremiah’s hearts was just hurtful for everyone involved. Just because she was confused with who she wanted, who she loved, didn’t mean she had to get a taste of both before making a choice. 

Conrad released a shaky breath, trying to control his emotions and not have another panic attack. ‘’I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you. I didn’t know where else to go…’’ 

You shook your head, dismissing his apologies. ‘’I’d rather you come and pour your little heart out to me than go through everything on your own and mope.’’

‘’I don’t mope by myself—’’ 

You raised an eyebrow playfully, cutting him off.

‘’Maybe I do…’’ he conceded with a defeated sigh. 

Keeping everything inside had always been Conrad's way of coping. He rarely talked to anyone about himself or how he felt. It wasn't the healthiest approach, and you knew it, but you also understood that you couldn't force him to open up.

‘’Do you have a place to stay tonight?’’ 

Conrad sank deeper into the couch cushions, having not thought ahead. When he left the motel, he told his brother he was going to take a bus to Cousins to get the summer house back together, but he impulsively came here instead. 

‘’You can stay if you want. There’s no one in the guest room,’’ you offered.

‘’Thanks. For real.’’ He gave you a soft smile, grateful for everything. ‘’I don’t know what I would’ve done today if you had not been there.’’

‘’I’m always gonna be there for you, Con,’’ you promised, returning a smile. ‘’Right now, it might be raining, but there'll be happiness after her. Someone will turn your gray sky and paint it blue again.’’

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti @lomlolivia @5sosbands @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @a-band-aid-for-your-heart @gilbertscurls @brandirouse86 @leilani-nichole @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr  @bchindureyes @bellysbeach  @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster  @johannelis2302nely  @aqshua @foockingasshole @straberryshortcake143 @luiise  @sickntiredtoo  @adrluvh @mymultiveres @Rosekar16 @hopeurokays @amysangrl  @hopelessromantic727 @beth-gallagher22 @lonelywitchv2

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp #tsitp imagine #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Love's Proposition Collection Event

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

Slightly suggestive

I woke up earlier than usual and quietly slipped out of Gilbert's bed to change in my room, but, for some reason, the door wouldn't open.

(It's locked from the inside.)

Emma: "Gil..."

Gilbert: "The key is right here."

He seemed to have woken up as he sat up and playfully shook the key in his hand, smiling.

(It's not the first time he locked me in, but...)

Emma: "Do you have something to tell me?"

Gilbert: "Who knows?"

Emma: "Please tell me."

Gilbert: ".........."

Emma: "I was planning to bake a lot of sweets today, you know?"

Gilbert: "Heh?"

He beckoned me over, still smiling.

I approached him cautiously, and he grabbed my hand and bit it.

Emma: "Ouch!"

Gilbert: "Be careful, as every time you make a mistake, your body will be covered in bite marks."

(He's being unreasonable!)

Emma: "Wait, are you sick?"

Gilbert: "Do I look sick?"

Emma: "No."

He pushed me roughly onto the bed, and this time, he bit into my shoulder, opening my collar.

Emma: "T-Then do you want me to help you with something一"

Gilbert: "All of those are completely off."

He bit into my other shoulder, and tears welled up from the pain.

Gilbert: "You need to guess quickly, or you'll end up getting covered in bite marks."

(What else could it be?)

He peered into my face from a close distance.

Drawn in by his seductive blood-colored eyes, I lightly kissed him as if being tempted.

Emma: "Is it something like this?"

Gilbert: "............"

He gently nibbled on my nose.

(This isn't it either.)

(Crap. At this rate, I might not be able to leave the room.)

The strange tension and the pounding of my heartbeat stole my words.

In the silence, Gilbert's cold hand pulled down my negligee, and he bit into my exposed nipple.

Emma: "Nnn. You still haven't given me an answer!"

Gilbert: "It doesn't matter how long it takes me to answer."

As his tongue slid over the throbbing bite mark, my body gradually succumbed to the heat.

He mercilessly repeated it, and my thoughts melted into a heavy, vanilla-like sweetness.

Gilbert: "Why can't you understand something so simple?"

Gilbert: "Come on, think properly."

Emma: "Ahhh... I don't know."

Gilbert: "I see. Then I guess you'll be stuck in here forever."

(Forever!?)

Gilbert: "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

His cold fingertips slid from my chest to my stomach, eventually slipping inside the space between my legs.

(I need to think.)

I bit my lip to prevent myself from being consumed by the violent pleasure, but a cold kiss stopped me.

His expression, as he pulled away, seemed somewhat dissatisfied.

(The reason I can't leave the room is a simple one.)

(But when did he lock the door in the first place?)

(At the very least, he had already wanted something by the time I fell asleep.)

(I'm pretty sure he anticipated my actions.)

(Oh!)

The moment I realized it, I embraced him.

Emma: "I'll stay here a bit longer."

Gilbert: "Fufu, well done."

He embraced me back, and our bodies pressed together.

Gilbert: "Going back to your room right after waking up is a bit lonely, don't you think?"

Gilbert: "Just how lonely? Well, enough to want to render your legs useless."

Emma: "Will you stop that!?"

Gilbert: "Ahahaha, don't worry. You wouldn't do something so cruel to me, would you?"

His tone was more like a plea than a threat.

Because of that, instead of getting angry, affection filled me.

(At this rate, I might not be able to stay away for even a moment.)

He repeatedly gave me short kisses with a satisfied smile, and I squinted my eyes at the ticklish sensation.

(But it's okay.)

(Because it's not just Gilbert who feels lonely.)

Ikepri Masterlist

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri jp #cybird #ikepri translations

[celiciaa]

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE, HIS SIDE STORY.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

trigger warning: suggestive, violence.

MINORS DNI.

Birthdays always come every year as long as I’m alive, even if I don't want to.

━━FLASHBACK━━

Albert: Happy birthday, Gil.

Mother: I'm glad you were able to age properly this year. I feel like I'm about to cry.

━━

Aristocrat: Happy birthday, Lord Gilbert.

Aristocrat: I hope you liked the surprise party I prepared for you.

(Stop….)

━━

Albert: Look, I got that academic book you wanted.

Albert: It's really amazing how you can understand such a difficult book, you're a genius. // You're really amazing to understand such a difficult book, you're a genius.

Mother: I made some new clothes.

Mother: I'm sure you'll grow out of it soon, so please let me make you a new outfit for your birthday.

━━

Aristocrat: Of course, we also have prepared many presents.

Aristocrat: All of us present here would like to offer our heartfelt blessings to His Highness——

(…Stop.)

━━

Albert: I'm sure Gil will grow up to be a good man every time he celebrates his birthday.

Mother: Hehe, look forward to it. But the most important thing is for you to live.

Mother: Happy birthday to you many, many times, Gil.

━━

Aristocrat for embezzlement: Congratulations.

Aristocrat for theft: Congratulations, Lord Gilbert.

Aristocrat for murder: My sincerest congratulations, Lord Gilbert.

Gilbert: ——….Hehe, thank you. But I don't need that.

Aristocrat for the crime of human trafficking: Lord Gilbert?

Gilbert: I'm feeling sleepy today, so I'm heading back. Good night.

Gilbert: I'll see you on the execution site.

(Stop it…stop it, stop it.)

(I don't want those memories to be tarnished by the farce of those filthy aristocrats.)

━━

Aristocrat for the crime of human trafficking: Lord Gilbert, please forgive me!

Gilbert: Hm, what? You don't want to die in an instant?

Gilbert: If that's the case, I'll execute you myself. I'm not used to handling a sword yet….

Gilbert: I'm sure it will take a while, unlike the Emperor, but that's okay, right?

Aristocrat for the crime of human trafficking: Aa….aaAAAAAAHHH���!

Gilbert: Ahaha! What a shame. Everyone, take a good look.

Gilbert: This isn't someone else's business…yes?

(I don't need birthdays anymore.)

(It would be better for me to just disappear than be corrupted by those filthy aristocrats.)

(No one is allowed to celebrate my birthday.)

(Anyone who congratulates me will be killed without exception.)

(Roderich, Walter, all of them, without exception——)

━━FLASHBACK ENDS━━

Gilbert: Hey, hey, little rabbit. Do you know my birthday is almost close?

——One day when the snow started to fall, those words fell out of my mouth instinctively.

Emma: Huh, when is it!?

Gilbert: One week later.

Emma: Why didn't you tell me earlier!

Emma: What should I do…is it possible to prepare the ingredients for the cake now….

Gilbert: ….

(Why did I say that?)

(I thought I decided long ago not to let anyone celebrate my birthday.)

Emma: Is something wrong?

Gilbert: No, it's nothing.

(But I'm sure you….)

(….You wouldn't lie to me, would you?)

━━

Roderich: ——That was surprising.

On the way back to my room after my regular checkup, I found myself alone with Roderich and mumbled something.

Gilbert: Because I told her about my birthday?

Roderich: Yes. Me and the doctor are planning to celebrate….

Gilbert: No, I won't allow it.

Roderich: As expected.

Gilbert: Hehe, I thought I'd give the little rabbit a special chance.

Gilbert: I don't know how many more birthdays I will have. I thought it would be better not to have any regrets.

Roderich: It can be as many times as you want. Whether it's 10 years or 100 years.

Gilbert: I'm not immortal.

Gilbert: But, well, maybe I'm getting carried away this year. // But, maybe I'm just too excited this year.

Gilbert: ….I used to look forward to my birthday a lot, you know?

Gilbert: I wonder what kind of presents she will give me, and what kind of delicious food she’s preparing for me…..

Gilbert: When I'm with the little rabbit, I sometimes remember those feelings I had when I was a human.

Roderich: ….

Roderich, who was right beside me, had stopped walking.

When I approached him, his face which was hidden behind the hood remained downcast, and did not rise to look me in the eye.

Gilbert: Eh, I was just kidding. What are you crying about? That’s disgusting…..

Roderich: ….Even the doctor had teary eyes after your checkup.

Roderich: He said it’s been a while since he heard about your birthday at the obsidian castle….

Roderich: Lord Gilbert celebrated other people's birthdays, but was not happy to celebrate his own.

Gilbert: Ahaha, how honest, aren’t you? I don't know if the little rabbit will celebrate, after all the threats I’ve made.

Roderich: I wouldn't call that a threat.

Gilbert: Then what?

Roderich: It's just your way of saying that you’re looking forward to your birthday.

━━

(——I wonder if I'm that easy to understand.)

Until the day of my birthday, the little rabbit must have been in deep distress.

Her hands were shaking with nervousness as she baked the cake, and her expression was worrying.

Still, she ended up making a birthday cake for me.

It seems that even after hearing that someone was sent to the execution stand, her intentions did not change.

(I think she got the message that I was expecting her.)

Emma: ….This is just my speculation….

Emma: Lord Gilbert—— Gil, I don't think you want to celebrate your birthday.

Emma: You hate lies.

Emma: Because it was supposed to be a special and important day, you couldn't allow yourself to be defiled by corruption and deception.

Emma: …..That's what I thought.

Gilbert: Hehe…as expected of the little rabbit, who loves me so much.

(You’re spot on.)

(Honestly, I didn't think you could see through it that much, but I guess you can see into my heart.)

(…You are completely different from the rotten aristocrats.)

Gilbert: Are you really going to congratulate me?

Emma: Of course.

Gilbert: I've killed many people so far, and I might kill many more in the future.

Gilbert: I’ve sent someone to the execution stand after I celebrated my birthday before, and I'll do it again if anyone like that shows up in the future, you know?

Emma: …..

(…How cruel of me.)

I am by no means doubting Emma’s beautiful heart.

But after so many years of dealing with corruption and deceit, I am paranoid as a matter of habit.

It was also for self-defense, not wanting to be disappointed because I wanted a heartfelt celebration.

Emma: ….I see.

After a long silence, the little rabbit nodded.

Emma: Even if you have made the whole world your enemy, I will congratulate you.

Emma: I'm already a bad woman, so it's too late for that.

Emma: Please don't underestimate my love for you.

(….)

(…You're crying.)

Her eyes are slightly moist with determination, but she looks forward with dignity.

It was more beautiful than the memory of a birthday I once had, and it burned strongly in my mind.

Gilbert: ….Hehe, sorry. I was bullying you too much.

(I just want to be celebrated by you, but I don't feel safe unless I do this.)

(I'm so sorry, little rabbit.)

I stand in front of Emma and use my fingers to scoop up her tears that are about to fall.

(But I finally found someone to celebrate with.)

(I thought that once I fell into the beast, I would never be a part of it again….)

(…I feel like it's a kind of blessing that a great villain who killed a lot of people shouldn't enjoy…)

As I secretly close my aching heart, without warning, Emma puts her hand on my cheek and kisses me lightly.

Gilbert: What?

Emma: …I can't give you a cake right now, so here's an alternative gift for you.

(Really….I wonder how bare my heart is in front of you.)

Gilbert: That's a poor gift.

Emma: How about this?

The little rabbit puts her arms around my neck and takes a deeper kiss than before.

(…For a moment, I wondered if it was okay to be so happy despite being a big villain——)

(Well, if I’m the big villain, it's just enough for me to snatch away all the happiness that little rabbit gives me.)

(I never thought about it before…)

(Wouldn't it be nice to receive a little reward for living in a dirty world?)

My wavering heart hardened and I bit the little rabbit's lip.

When she froze in surprise, the first thing I did was pry her lips open with my fingers.

Making sure her tongue was out and I bit it to the extent that it didn't hurt, I placed my hand on Emma’s leg as she leaned on the table.

(Come to think of it, the little rabbit is wearing the outfit I made for her today.)

(…I'm sorry that you've been dyed by me.)

When I lifted the hem of her black dress and forced my fingers deep inside her, Emma’s face contorted in pain.

Emma: Gil…it hurts….

Gilbert: Yeah, on purpose.

Emma: Why….

Gilbert: Because you don't like pain, do you, little rabbit?

When I plunged her deep into the pit of her stomach with my fingers, her expression immediately turned lewd.

Gilbert: See, you looked like you were feeling good.

Gilbert: By the way, we’re in the kitchen. Are you going to stop me?

(I'm sure the little rabbit would resist more.)

The wet squelching sounds and her moans became more visible the moment I added two more fingers.

Emma: ….Just…for today….

Emma: No matter what Gil wants…if he wants to do it here, I’d take it all….

Gilbert: Because it's my birthday?

When I asked, the little rabbit brought my head close to her soft chest.

Emma: I do not…lie.

Emma: So...you can try it until you feel safe, Gil.

Emma: My celebration is from the bottom of my heart…my sincerest congratulations…

Emma: I will keep telling Gil, no matter how much it hurts, until he believes in me.

Gilbert: …..

Gilbert: Oh, no. I guess I've been found out.

(I feel like I can't hide anything in front of you.)

Emma: Gil is probably a lot easier to understand than I think.

Gilbert: I think those words can only be said because you are facing me head-on.

Gilbert: …It's really a pity that a troublesome man likes you so much.

(As long as you understand my intentions and wish me a happy birthday, I'll be fine.)

(I don't think I'll be betrayed by you.)

I stroked the little rabbit’s weak spot as a reward and to her response, she was trembling in pleasure.

(Birthdays are coming back again this year.)

(…Yeah. Maybe it’s not so bad.)

━━

Despite being bullied by the beast, the little rabbit somehow manages to finish the birthday cake and feed it to me.

The first birthday in a long time was filled with the warmth and tender feelings that had once been so natural to me.

Gilbert: Hehe…your heart is still beating, isn't it?

Emma: I can…hear your heartbeat too, Gil.

At the end of the celebration, we lie down on the bed, skin to skin, as if it were natural.

As I listened to the sound of the heartbeats coming from our chests,

The little rabbit placed her hand on my back and I felt a slight pain.

(Ah—…. I guess it's a scratch from when I held you earlier.)

The little rabbit’s face turned apologetic the moment she noticed my expression.

Emma: …I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.

Gilbert: I don’t mind. I like being hurt by you too.

Gilbert: You could have left bite marks as well as scratches.

When I run my fingers down her delicate arm, there are clear bite marks.

(Hehe, it must have hurt a lot. The little rabbit cried many times)

(You're crazy because you still love me.)

(….Well, I don't think any sane person could ever love me.)

Emma: It's hard to tell how much is too much or too little love Gil.

Gilbert: Then, let's learn it sometime soon. How about by next year's birthday?

Emma: I hope…you will let me celebrate again next year.

Gilbert: Who knows? It's up to you whether it’ll be your last or your first.

Gilbert: If you love me a lot, I might change my mind...okay?

Emma: ….

Gilbert: It’s just...my celebration this year wasn't unpleasant.

Gilbert: ….Thank you.

Emma: …..

(It's like I'm getting back one of my forgotten emotions.)

The more time I spend with the little rabbit, the more things I once let go of may gradually come back to me.

It is a frightening yet happy thing.

Emma: So…next time, how about we celebrate with Mr. Roderich and Mr. Walter?

Emma: I'm sure both of them really want to congratulate you, Lord Gilbert.

Gilbert: That’s not allowed.

(I'm sure those two want to celebrate my birthday….)

Gilbert: I don't need other people's congratulations. As long as I have yours, that's all that matters.

Gilbert: Because you're the only one I love.

When I said this clearly, the little rabbit looked embarrassed and shy.

(…You're so cute.)

Emma: Gil…I forgot to mention the most important thing.

Gilbert: Hm?

Emma: Happy birthday.

Emma: I'll give you lots of love…so please let me celebrate with you again next year.

(…So many reasons I can’t die like this.)

(I'm at a loss. But since it's a request from my beloved rabbit, I can't resist.)

Gilbert: Hehe, I understand. I'll let you celebrate as long as you are.

Gilbert: Keep loving the beast with your pure heart, just as you are…got it?

(So please. Don't you just disappear like those two.)

(As long as I'm alive, you have to make sure you celebrate my birthday every year…okay?)

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

[clavissionary-position]

(Translation) Gilbert's Beast Manual His POV Story

The final installment in Gilbert's current party event.

Spoilers. I'm not a translator, I just throw stuff into online translators, so expect errors. Case 1 | Case 2 | Case 3 (I recommend you read these beforehand for the full experience.)

Please be aware that this installment contains some heavier emotional content as well as sexual content later on—MDNI. As a final note, I recommend you have read Gilbert's proposal event beforehand. Just in case. (Technically I'd also recommend you have read his physical exam event too, but not to the same degree.)

—

I couldn't tell the little rabbit the real reason I had her accompany me on official business.

I'd most certainly earn a scolding and remonstration if I did.

I felt like I wanted to be scolded at least once though, since the little rabbit was the only one who could truly rebuke the conquering beast. However...

"I want the little rabbit to be able to survive in Obsidian even if by some chance I were no longer here."

Those were not words I could simply tell her, because I knew just how devastating they would be for her.

(That being said, today's been worse than ever.)

Crimes of the older generations continuing to go unchecked, signs of rampant bribery within the military...

The little rabbit's beautiful eyes were exposed to so many of these things.

(What is it about this country that when one rotten thing disappears, three more take its place?)

(Maybe everyone's got a death-wish. Yet they still beg for their lives once they're weeded out.)

(...It's incomprehensible to me. If only they'd all just die to save me the trouble.)

Emma: Gil, are we done with official business for the day?

My darkening thoughts must have breached containment; as the little rabbit walked beside me she entwined her fingers with mine.

Her warm hand permeated the cruelty staining across my heart.

Gilbert: I don't have any plans, but is there anything you'd like to do?

Emma: Is it alright if I come to your room? I feel like your bookshelves are calling for me.

Gilbert: Of course it's alright.

(...You probably have a lot to think over.)

Her face only spelled out joy. There was no deceit to be found.

She didn't change her usual demeanor, not even when faced with an irritable beast.

(I've known Walter and Roderic for a long time and even they're prone to checking my complexion on days like this.)

Of course that certainly didn't mean she hadn't noticed a thing.

In fact, the little rabbit, with her keen insight into other people's emotions, should have already pinpointed mine.

[flashback to Case 1]

Gilbert: Anyhow... was it written on my face?

Emma: ...Yeah, it was.

Gilbert: Hehe, well that's no good.

Emma: Isn't that what I'm here for?

Emma: To help give you even a little peace of mind?

[end flashback]

(That's what you said this morning, right?)

(...Truly, you're so gallant for a baby rabbit.)

The little rabbit immediately leapt at the books once she arrived in my room.

Although she'd probably learned by now that concentrating on the books alone would make this troublesome beast very jealous.

So she picked out only one before walking over to the bed and sitting down beside that beast.

Gilbert: ...What's this? Political science?

Emma: I felt like doing some studying today.

(Oh, I see...)

(Someone with a truly pure heart doesn't get tainted after experiencing filth. But rather, they lament their own helplessness.)

(...That's just so like the old me.)

A young boy who'd once learned about corruption and then tried desperately to change the status quo.

And after he'd finished reading all the books available within the country, he'd asked a book dealer to regularly procure ones from other places so he could vigilantly instill the knowledge into himself.

That was back when I'd still foolishly believed that no matter how corrupt a person was, there was an alternative to killing them as long as you engaged with them sincerely.

(Things didn't work out so nicely in the real world though.)

(...But I want the little rabbit to stay like this, just as she is.)

Gilbert: [smiling as he watches her read] ...

Emma: ...

Gilbert: ......

Emma: ......Gil.

The little rabbit looked up from her book, appearing as though she might cry.

Emma: Are there any easier political science books?

Gilbert: Ahaha... I knew it.

Gilbert: The book you're holding is so philosophical that even I found it difficult to understand.

Gilbert: Would you like me to recommend something aimed at beginners?

Emma: Yes, please, if you wouldn't mind!

Gilbert: And what should you do when begging me?

Without hesitation, the little rabbit placed her hands my shoulders and kissed my cheek.

Emma: ...Please, Gil.

Gilbert: It's boring if you do the same thing you always do.

Emma: Then how about...

When I sensed her trying to bite my ear, I pulled back.

Gilbert: Really now... So that's what you're gonna do.

Emma: Aren't you always biting my ear? It's a show of my affection.

Gilbert: But you're already aware though, of how sensitive my ears are?

Emma: ...

Gilbert: Oh, I almost forgot. I still have to discipline you.

Emma: ...W-what are you talking about?

Gilbert: Are you playing innocent? You still haven't made up for sneaking medicine into my food during lunch.

Emma: Um, I did make up for it!? Didn't you have your fun teasing me for it?

Gilbert: That was just a bit of playing around. You see, my real punishment—

I grabbed the little rabbit's hand as she tried to run and forced her onto the bed in a roll.

Just like that I gathered her wrists above her head and bound them with a nearby cloth.

(I hadn't really planned to do something like this...)

(But the little rabbit's been a bad girl, so I've got no choice.)

Emma: I was... going to study...

Gilbert: I'll have a beginner's book picked out for you by tomorrow.

Gilbert: Or rather, if you're interested, I can teach you myself? After all, training people is my forte.

I undid the collar of her dress and ran my fingers directly over her bare skin.

The little rabbit's cheeks turned as red as the sunset when I placed my hand over her breasts.

Emma: But don't you have things to do, Gil?

Gilbert: It's up to me how I choose to use my limited time.

Gilbert: You really don't have to be so overly anxious. If I can't manage, I'll say so.

(Although there's nothing that should be getting higher priority over the little rabbit's requests.)

The little rabbit started rubbing her legs together as I caressed her over and over again.

Purposely ignoring her mounting frustration was, of course, all part of the plan.

Emma: In that case... Thank you, Gil.

Gilbert: You've certainly got funny tastes to be saying thank you at a time like this.

Emma: That's not what I mean... mn... ah...

She suddenly let out a lewd cry when I lightly poked the hardened tip of her breast.

Emma: This afternoon, too, you...

Gilbert: I let you have your release right away this afternoon, didn't I? I wouldn't call that a punishment.

Emma: ...

Gilbert: It's no use being wistful either.

When I turned up the hem of her dress, I didn't even have to touch her to uncover the stain on her underwear.

Just a light swipe up the thin fabric and my fingertips came away damp.

Gilbert: Now then, you're going to have to suffer a lot.

Emma: ...At least... let me take my clothing off please.

Emma: I can't bear to... ruin the dress you made for me.

(Jeez, you truly are...)

Gilbert: I'm not listening to you.

Emma: Ah...

I thrust my fingers into her wetness as if I was trying to scrape out every last drop of nectar.

The dress pinned underneath her quickly became sullied.

Emma: Gil... mn...

Gilbert: If the dress gets dirty, you'll be just be reminded of something embarrassing whenever you put it on, won't you?

Gilbert: This is punishment, so you've got to resign yourself and accept it.

Emma: .......You're so mean.

Gilbert: And who exactly do you think I am?

(For the world's greatest villain to let you off with meanness and nothing else... that just means you're special.)

After the punishment, the little rabbit, thoroughly sullied, headed for the bath.

I honestly wanted to chase after her, but there was still work to be done today.

Roderic: Pardon me, sir.

Gilbert: I figured you'd come.

When I got to my office desk, Roderic immediately selected a document from the stack and handed it to me.

Roderic: ...I thought I might be turned away.

Gilbert: I'm in a good mood right now so I'll forgive you.

Roderic: That's surprising. I thought a storm would have been raging these past few days.

Gilbert: Ahaha, everyone has the little rabbit to thank for that.

Roderic: ...They can't thank her enough.

Gilbert: Neither can I.

I briefly glanced over the document before picking up my quill.

[I'm not gonna paste all the cutaways from the CG like I did in Case 3]

Gilbert: I see. So they've already completed their draft. Excellent, excellent.

Roderic: It seems experiencing your wrath this morning made them respond accordingly.

Gilbert: I'd like for them to submit the draft before it ever gets to that point next time.

Roderic: It's only because nobody can come up with out-of-the-box ideas like you.

Gilbert: They're all conclusions one can arrive at rationally. It's not like I'm making unreasonable demands of anyone.

(We're in trouble if they can't grow to the point where they can keep the older generations in check even without me.)

While talking, I read through the document and noted down points of concern.

Gilbert: ...Also, the draft was poorly-constructed. With this there's too gaps for us to drive that old man into a corner.

Roderic: Then I'll have it returned to you in such a way that we can.

Gilbert: I only appreciate haste. You help them too, Roderic. I'd like to have the contents finalized before our next regular meeting.

Gilbert: If we leave that old man unchecked, he may soon start a losing battle against neighboring countries.

(Up until now I'd left him to go and self-destruct on his own but... it was a promise to the little rabbit.)

Roderic: ...Understood, sir.

After completing my review, I handed it back to Roderic.

Gilbert: What's the next document?

Roderic: It's here, sir.

Gilbert: ...I know I keep asking, but is there more still?

Roderic: There's a mountain of things I'd like you to look over.

Gilbert: I thought I'd delegated my authority out.

(And it's not like they're even required to check in with me before proceeding.)

Roderic: This just means that Obsidian needs you.

Gilbert: That's certainly a problem.

Roderic: No, sir, it's not.

(I've got no intention of dying now that I've decided to live, but...)

(The everyday life that's persisted until today may not necessarily continue on tomorrow.)

(Because of the position I'm in, I have to assume the worst and act accordingly.)

Gilbert: ...[sigh] Unless we can get everyone past the idea that failure is some sort of capital crime, won't it be difficult for you and I to manage all this work on our own?

Gilbert: It seems like my presence is a hindrance after all.

Roderic: Please don't say that!

Gilbert: Fine, fine. If you don't like it, then go give out this PSA.

Gilbert: "As long as there's no fraud or corruption at work, I won't kill you over a simple failure. So please rely on your own judgement more."

Roderic: ...Very well, sir.

(Even so...)

I'd felt someone's passionate gaze trained on me even while we were talking.

The person in question may have believed they were well-hidden.

But I couldn't help but notice the hem of her negligee flickering from her hiding spot.

Roderic: ...Sir, let's deal with the rest of this tomorrow.

Roderic may have noticed as well since he was giving up on the rest of the documents.

Gilbert: Hey. You definitely didn't see anything, right?

Roderic: I saw nothing and I noticed nothing.

Gilbert: Is that so? That's fine, then. Thank you for your hard work.

(Narrowly escaped death, didn't you...?)

The door closed behind Roderic and I stretched out my arms as though to relax.

Gilbert: Now, then, little rabbit.

Emma: ...So you'd noticed me after all.

Gilbert: Well that's a given.

Once I beckoned, the little rabbit understood my request exactly and climbed onto my lap.

Gilbert: You were throwing Roderic such a passionate look.

Emma: I was looking at you!?

Gilbert: He was positioned in the same line of sight.

Gilbert: As you know, you have a very troublesome man on your hands. So you're aware of what you should do at a time like this, right...?

Emma: ......

The punishment from earlier seemed to have taken effect as the little rabbit kissed my lips instead of my ear.

I lightly bit her lip on her way out, imparting a bit of pain.

But rather than get angry, the little rabbit's eyes only seemed to soften with joy.

(Looks like I was able to soothe you after all.)

Emma: ...Did I interfere with your official duties?

Gilbert: [pouts] Roderic's the one who interfered. Showing up at this hour with documents for review.

Emma: That's probably because you were busy during the day.

Gilbert: [grins] Hehe... I showed you a lot of things I don't like about Obsidian today.

Emma: ...And I want to know about even more of those things from now on.

Emma: Because I'd like to be able to assist you as well.

Gilbert: Ahaha, that's reassuring.

(...Hm?)

The little rabbit had begun to frown as she spoke.

(Have I said something wrong?)

I hadn't the faintest idea what it could be, so I settled on comforting her for the time being by stroking her cheek, still warm from her bath.

Gilbert: You're pulling such a long face even though your words are so reassuring,

Emma: ...I wasn't lying.

Gilbert: I know that. So what's eating at you?

Emma: ...I can't really put it to words.

Emma: It's just... I'm envious of Roderic.

(......)

Emma: He's able to assist you more than me, and he knows everything...

(...So that's what was on your mind while you were eavesdropping.)

(The little rabbit is jealous of Roderic.)

(The sweet little rabbit of all people.)

Gilbert: Wow... I'll have to give Roderic a bonus.

There's no way I wouldn't be happy to be shown such love to the point of jealousy.

This was an event that completely overturned all the depressing stuff from today.

It was practically a miracle.

Emma: ...I get it now. So this is what you've been feeling all this time.

Emma: Hehe... What do I do? I'm really jealous here.

Jealousy was supposed to be a negative emotion by nature yet the little rabbit took it in as though it were a good thing.

I felt like she'd gotten a glimpse of how this beast dealt with his jealousy on a daily basis.

Gilbert: Serious jealousy is nothing like this though, you know?

Emma: Are you saying there's more to come?

Gilbert: Yeah. Your jealousy's in the early chapters.

Gilbert: The more and more you come to love me, the less you'll be able to contain that kind of adorable jealousy.

Emma: I'll work diligently then.

Gilbert: Hehe... I can't believe you've cheered up this much just from turning into a jealousy fiend.

(It's just like Roderich was saying. I definitely shouldn't have been able to show any kindness toward my surroundings these past few days)

And yet, what occupies my heart now at the end of the day is pure happiness.

(The reason I had Emma accompany me on official business was in preparation for a day that might possibly come...)

(At least that's what I'd thought, but perhaps in reality I'd only wanted to be healed.)

(...Nothing in this rotten world can change a thing about the beautiful world that Emma brings.)

(Maybe I'm just spoiled by the comfort in that.)

(...I may be a lot more dependent on Emma than I realize.)

When I laughed despite myself, Emma began to gently stroke my hair.

Gilbert: Taming the conquering beast is difficult, isn't it? But it might be easy for you.

Gilbert: Because I'm so madly in love with you.

(I'm sure I could cherish you endlessly.)

(That's why... I wish this daily life could go on forever.)

----------

Translation references: 無理矢理 1 | かと 1 2 | 感謝してもしきれません 1 | あなたなら 1

#ikemen prince #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri translation folder

[cryptictongues]

184 Days

pairing: Clive Rosfield x Flower!Reader Series rating: Mature (angst; tw listed below) word count: 13.6K summary: You have a hard time grieving after Clive's passing, even when you didn't need to grieve at all.

warnings:  reader-insert (sorry lol), angst, hurt/comfort, reunions, grief/mourning, slight suicidal ideation, slight self-harm, depression, panic attacks, happy ending (yay!) - this is part of the Flower!Reader series! You don't need to have read the other two but there are references to them if that interests you.

Spoilers: This is post-game stuff. If you haven't played the game, beware.

TW's: This fic contains major themes of grief, so it is heavy. There is minor suicidal ideation and self-harm, not graphic in nature, but it is there. Depression and panic attacks are more common in this fic. If these topics don't sit right with you, please be cautious when reading. You may also reach out if you want to know specifics if you are worried!

Songs: I just want to share that I was constantly listening to When the Sun Hits by Slowdive, Thick Skull by Paramore, and Wicked Games by Chris Isaak.

LASTLY, I am sharing this on my birthday! My birthday gift to you all <3

[AO3 link]

Day 1

The Hideaway is full of people. People from all over Valisthea arrive in droves, coming to grant supplies, donate gil, and help around the Hideaway because today is the day; the day everyone here sends off Dion, Joshua, and Clive for their leave to Origin.

You are working overtime, helping with the final preparations before they take off. The biggest reason, however, for the hard work is the ever creeping anxiety filling your body as the time ticks closer to Clive’s departure; from his friends and family, and from you. This day has been a long time coming, yet now that it’s here you can barely stomach the thought of him leaving. With that thought lingering, every moment together has been even more precious than the next. 

Every moment of free time has been spent together. With today being the day of departure, your last moments together were last night. You both made love all night, and in between sessions would talk about what you two will do once he comes back; creating the life of your dreams together. Yet, in the back of your mind, all you could think was those thoughts were just that: dreams. You don’t know what will happen during Clive’s mission. But it’s fun to play pretend, and to envision what life could have in store for the two of you. 

The sun was in its golden state before its colors showed, telling you it’s almost time. You see everyone gathering on the main deck, Clive and co included, talking with one another as they say their farewells and safe travels. You start your way there, walking slowly as if it would prevent the inevitable. You know the moment you reach Clive, it would only be a matter of minutes before he is no longer within your grasp.

You see Clive talking to Jill, bringing her in for a tight hug as he continues. You see a shake in her shoulders, telling you she feels the same way you do. Just as hard as it is to wish your lover away, it must be just as hard to watch the man who has become a brother figure leave. They grew up together, after all.

You give a farewell to Prince Dion and Joshua once on the deck, giving Dion a firm handshake and a bow, while Joshua brings you in for a hug. You didn’t know Dion for long, but Joshua is a different story. Getting to know your lover’s brother has brought you closer to the both of them. Seeing how happy Clive was with Joshua around made your heart swell. You wonder if Joshua ever felt the same about you two. 

Joshua let’s go of you, a melancholy smile drawn on his face. “Thank you, _____. Thank you for taking care of my brother.” 

You shake your head. “No, thank you for finding each other again. I will be praying for the three of you to safely return to us.”

“I appreciate that, my lady.” Joshua thanks, yet his eyes shift, and he nods. “Here he comes.”

You turn to see Clive approaching you, and you already feel your chest growing tight and eyes water. He is standing before you, looking as beautiful as he always has, but with a sorrowful look that says everything you feel. It’s unfair, really. It devastates you that he is the one to stop all the madness, when in a perfect world he would stay. You keep telling yourself this isn’t the end, yet your gut keeps telling you otherwise. 

“____.”

“Would it be selfish of me to ask you to stay? To ask to let the world go to hell?”

Clive smiles, solemnly chuckling at your suggestions. “Never.”

You reach for his left hand with both hands, holding it as you rub your thumbs into his palm. “I know it would be futile, all the same.” You utter. “There would be no life worth living for anyone. I just wish things could be different.”

“I am doing this for a better future for everyone. It is what the world deserves.” Clive’s other hand covers your hands in full. “I must do this, so you and I can live the future we’ve always talked about.”

“I wish I could take your place, so I could guarantee your safety.” You choke out, the waterworks starting. 

Clive is quick to react, pulling you into him as you sob softly into his chest. “Knowing you will be safe here will be reason enough for me to make it back to you.” Your hands squeeze his sides, his statement making you want to sob harder. Clive pulls back, taking one hand to lift your head to get a good look at you. “I promise I will be back. Wait for me.”

You nod frantically, sniffling as you take deep breaths to calm down. Clive’s forehead leans against yours, his thumb brushing continuous strokes on your cheek, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You accept his kiss, giving it your all knowing the outcome is unknown. Both of your lips linger, not wanting to pull away because once one of you does, he will be on his way. 

Clive pulls away slightly, his lips still lingering near your own. “I love you, ____.”

“I love you too.” You whisper, placing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “I have something for you.”

You reach into the pouch you keep attached to your corset belt and pull out a lily. You thread the stem in between the crease of his corset and tunic, the tightness of his uniform keeping the flower in place. You brush his chest, stalling him a little longer before you accept it is time. “Lily represents reunion. With this flower, you shall come back to me.”

Clive sucks in a breath, releasing with a shutter as if he was on the verge of tears. “I will, no matter what.” 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you turn to see Jill still sniffling with watery eyes. She smiles at you before looking at Clive. “We will take care of each other.”

You feel something rub against your thigh and look to see Torgal rubbing his head on you. You smile, rubbing behind his ears. “Torgal will look out for us too.” 

Clive hums, appreciating the sight before him. “This is farewell for now. Till then, we have a god to kill.”

Everyone has now formed a semi-circle around the three dominants about to depart, watching as they walk towards the end of the deck. They pick up their pace, all of them running until they are no longer in sight. A bright light goes off and the next thing everyone sees is Bahamut carrying Clive and Joshua towards an event that will shape the world. 

-

You are sitting on the main deck, legs dangling off the side as you continue to stare off into the horizon. You haven’t left since Clive left, the golden hour long gone and twilight having come and gone, dusk now settling in the sky. It feels like it has been hours since his departure, when in reality it has only been a few. You wonder if they have made it to Origin yet, if the battle has started, if Ultima has been defeated… if they have met their maker for good. That thought makes you shiver. 

You hear footsteps coming from behind you before a presence sits right beside you. You don’t look, but the aura alone tells you it’s Jill and you smile slightly. She puts an arm around you, pulling you into her as you both continue to look into the distance, like they would be back any second. She twists your hair, which comforts you in a way, and you hum. It is silent for a while, watching the sky continue to grow darker and darker until the sky is black with its pearls. 

“Have you prayed to Metia today?” You break the silence with a question. Jill’s fixation that Metia answers prayers is comforting in these moments, especially when every prayer she has spoken through her heart has come true.

She shakes her head. “I haven’t, but only because I wanted you to join me. Our hearts combined will help, no doubt.”

You nod your head, and you both move into a position that faces Metia herself, kneeling before her with hands clasped together. You bow your head, and say your prayer in your head, letting your heart translate it in a way that only Metia understands. You pray for everyone’s safe return with little to no injury. You pray they come back healthy and happy. You pray for the dawn of a new age where you and Clive help build a world you two can grow old in. You pray for everything to be okay. You raise your head as you finish, and you admit that some weight has been lifted off your chest, but an uneasiness still sticks. You turn your head to see Jill finishing her own prayer, and she looks towards you with her hand reaching for yours. You give her your right hand and she grips it with a smile. “Metia has listened to our prayers. Now, we wait.”

“Jill, your faith that everything will be okay is admirable. I wish I had your confidence.” You confess, the sour feeling remaining deep in your body. 

“For the longest time, I thought Clive was long dead. I believed that Metia hadn’t listened. And next thing I know, there he is. Granted, it was years later.” She squeezes your hand, and turns so your knees are touching hers. “That’s why I have faith that they will return to us.”

“Maybe your faith will rub off on me, and not the other way around with my worries.” You chuckle, trying to make light of the night. 

“No matter what happens,” Jill reassures, “I will be here for you. We will be here for each other.”

You nod, and bring her in for a hug, squeezing her tightly which she returns. “Thank you, Jill. For everything.”

You both stay there for a minute, until next thing you know you hear running on the deck. You pull away to see Gav running towards you two, panic clear on his face. “Ah fuck,” he breathes in and out as he approaches. “Edda is in labor. All hands on deck.”

You and Jill gasp in unison, both jumping up to run to the infirmary to help bring new life into this world. And hopefully, a new one.

Day 2

“Alright, one more push, Edda.” 

You are sitting behind Edda, letting her use your hands for her death grip as she continuously pushes and wails out in pain. You, Jill, and Mid are giving her words of encouragement as she continues her labor, and after one final push Tarja fully delivers the baby. A cry echoes throughout the room and the atmosphere is full of happiness and relief. 

“Can I come in yet?” You hear Gav yell from the other side of the door.

“She just gave birth, Gav. Give us a minute.” Tarja yells, eyes rolling hard at Gav’s common sense.

“He’s just excited,” Jill chimes in. “As we all are.”

“Congratulations, Edda! It’s a boy!” Tarja finishes cleaning off the baby, kneeling beside Edda as she passes him off to her. You watch Edda admire her baby boy for the first time, her smile brightening up the room as she talks to him. 

Seeing them interact stirs you with an emotion you wish to experience directly. You and Clive have talked about having children, making it clear you two wouldn’t have any until the world has been set straight. But you two would talk about what it would be like to have a little you or a little him running around or both. You imagine cradling a little boy in your arms, giggling as you shower him with kisses. You imagine Clive holding a little girl, swaying her around while singing a melody. Two giggly children to call your own with the man you have fallen madly in love with. You feel as if your heart could burst from the thought. 

“_____, can you go up to the rear stacks to grab more towels off the lines?” Mid asks, taking you out of your sappy daydreams. You snap out of it, humming in the affirmative before moving away from Edda and heading to the door. You could barely get out the door before almost being trampled by Gav, running in like a mad man. “Let me see! Let me see!”

You chuckle to yourself, exiting the room and heading to the linen lines. Even when things seem dark, you can’t help but keep smiling at everyone’s high spirits tonight. You suppose new life being brought into the world will do that to people because it sure as hell is doing that for you. It’s a good distraction, and you accept it with open arms.

You grab some towels from the line, cradling them in your arms securely as you make your descent to the main deck and up the stairs to the infirmary. You reach the infirmary doors when you are once again almost hit by a body, except this time it was Jill. One quick look at her made it apparent she was crying. She doesn’t spare you a glance as she runs down the stairs, sobs fading as she goes further down. You turn to the open door, shock clear on your face. “What happened?”

Gav and Mid look at you like they don’t know what to say. You look at Gav, tears streaming down his face, and it’s like everything hits you all at once. Towels drop from your arms, your arms no longer working as your body starts to erupt. “No,” you shudder. “No.” You kept repeating yourself, not quite believing what’s happening. No words spoken, and yet everyone is saying your worst nightmare out loud. 

You could see Gav wanted to say something, but before a word could break the glass box you were building around yourself, you ran. You ran right out the door, and ran as fast as you could to Clive’s chambers. You slam the door shut, starting to pace back and forth with your fists yanking your hair. You turn to the balcony doors, and run to them, slamming them wide open before looking out into the distance. You see the moon, as bright and big as ever, yet Metia no longer shines in its vibrancy. You hear a howl and see Torgal and Jill, Jill’s head tilted down as her body continues to shake. Jill’s connection with Metia was enough to tell you that something terrible has happened: Clive is dead.

You back away from the door, utter disbelief and pain seeping into your lungs. He promised. He promised he would return to me. Your mind keeps reeling, and next thing you know you find yourself in Clive’s bed, wrapping yourself in his covers tightly to encapsulate his lingering scent. Sobs devastate your body, almost to the point of not being able to breathe. But you embraced it, for you wish you could stop breathing all together in this moment. 

You fall asleep with choked up airways and puffy eyes, dreams full of a future that’s no longer possible. You dream of him and him alone. You fall asleep in the dead of night, missing the sun greet Valisthea into a new era.

Day 5

Clive would’ve thought he was dead if it weren’t for the loud thumping in his head. He slowly comes to, the first thing he sees being light. It takes him a few seconds to adjust, his eyes working overtime against the strain. He feels sand, and hears the sound of waves. He goes to move his fingers when he notices he can’t move the ones on his left hand. He brings his left arm to his view and sees his hand is completely petrified. He couldn’t see the rest of his arm, but could feel the lack of blood and flesh ending right above his elbow. He pushes himself up with his good arm, hunching over in his spot as he breathes the salty air deeply.

Origin. He had defeated Ultima. The crystal in the sky was destroyed and now he finds himself here on this beach. Based on his surroundings, he concludes he is on the coast of Storm, even though the dark coast was no longer dark, but bright. It could have easily been mistaken for a coastline off of Valisthea, but behind him were still the dead brush of the continent. 

He wonders how long he’s been out for. He vaguely remembers waking up, but not long enough to recollect anything. He reaches up to his face to touch his facial hair, feeling the scruff that has grown out slightly. A few days, he thinks. It was a mere few days ago when he left the Hideaway with Dion and his brother, and now he is the only one left. It burns him up inside knowing he couldn’t save them, and the fact he watched his brother die not once, but twice weighs heavy on his heart. Especially because if Ultima hadn’t chosen him as his vessel, he most likely would have become the Phoenix and Joshua would be alive and safe. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but alas.

Clive knows it does no good to think this way. Just like he would have done anything to save Joshua, he knows just as well Joshua would’ve done everything to save him. He knew Joshua would want him to help bring Valisthea and Storm into a new age. And most importantly, he knew Joshua wanted him to be happy, and deserved as much. I cannot delve into what was, but what can. And what he can focus on is the future, especially one with you. 

Clive suddenly remembers the lily you had given him, and scrambles to retrieve it from his pant pouch with some difficulty due to one available hand. He felt its petals, still smooth and soft, and pulled it out to see it still looked brand new. He lets out a stuttered breath, eyes watering slightly. He almost couldn’t believe that after everything it had managed to stay in one piece, but he knew it was because you had blessed him with it. You had grown it, cared for it, and plucked it for him, and it was his turn to care for it. Just as well, it was time to keep his promise: to come back to you. He has been away for too long, and he must make haste now.

Clive sighs and slowly starts to stand up, gathering his bearings so as to not get too dizzy.  He stands still for a moment, breathing in deeply once more to ensure he won’t collapse before assessing his situation. He will need a boat. He thinks he could find a port somewhere, and worse comes to worse he travels to Waloed to get one there. He will need to eat something to gain some semblance of energy to do said travel. The biggest obstacle for him will be his arm, a heavy weight on his body that doesn’t help his fatigue. He will have to find something to make it more manageable until he can get back to the Hideaway.

He starts to walk up the beach towards the woods; body heavy from his wet clothes, stone arm, and tired eyes. But he will move forward, for you are waiting back home for him and his safe return. No matter the cost, he will make it home to you. 

“Darling, wait for me. I’m coming home.”

Day 14

It has been two weeks since the end of Origin, and to say you haven’t been grieving well is an understatement. You have a hard time getting out of bed these days, and your motivation to do anything is abysmal. You know your numbness is unsettling to other Hideaway members, many not knowing what to say when they see you. It’s like they saw you change overnight; your happy, go lucky self now tainted with expressionless reactions.

Gav has officially transitioned as the new Cid, but has yet to move into what will be his new room. He only comes in to do some paperwork, and read his latest messages. Oftentimes he will come to you, asking if he can get you anything, and he gets the same response from you every time: a subtle shake of your head. You are grateful that he lets you stay here as the smell of Clive’s sheets is the only thing keeping you from breaking all together. 

You had forced yourself out of bed today to go to the Backyard. You sat beside the flower bed, staring at the flowers hoping for something to happen. Flowers were your comfort for a long time, and now it is like they have no effect at all. You look at the lilies that are off to the side, and all you can do is scoff. Reunion my foot. 

You hear footsteps and paws coming down the stairs. You know it is Torgal and Jill, especially when Torgal has been stuck to Jill’s side for the last two weeks. You can’t blame him. You wouldn’t want to be around you either. 

“You came to pay the flowers a visit. They’ve missed you.” 

“They aren’t very good at showing it.” You shrug. You have been here for a few hours, and your mood hasn’t changed. You feel empty.

“Hortense is holding a sewing class for some new arrivals. You should come and say hi.” Jill says gently, not wanting to make your mood shift further south. 

Deep down, you know you’ve let Jill down. You had promised to be there for her like she had with you, yet your own self pity refuses to acknowledge your lack of empathy. The demon residing in your brain just tells you that no one understands. It doesn’t matter if everyone is grieving about the three’s passing; your happy ending relied on your lover coming back to you. Everyone else can move on, keeping him in their memory. You can’t because a part of you is now dead with him. 

You move to stand up, not wanting to bring her down with you. “They won’t want to see me. I’ll just make a fool out of myself.”

You move to head upstairs when Torgal blocks your walking route, and Jill gets in front of you. She grabs your shoulders, looking at you intently. You can see she is trying hard not to break in front of you, making that deep part of you scream to get over yourself. “Please, _____. You are an important asset to the Hideaway; the Jack of all Trades. I know they would love to meet you. The more kind people like you they meet, the more comfortable they will be here.”

Even since the end of Origin, new arrivals have continued to come in, many wanting to help with the cause. Even though bearers no longer have the power of magicks, it has led to more violence against those with the mark. This has led to everyone working more tirelessly to make strides for a future with new hope reinstated. You have yet to meet many of them, the motivation to do so never in your favor. 

“Clive would want you to continue his legacy.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream how his legacy has taken him away from you. You know your way of thinking is irrational, but the rational part of you is a mountain ready to avalanche. With the last bit you have, you take a deep breath, knowing she is right. He would want you to continue living, even without him. 

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll meet them. I can’t promise I’ll come off as kind. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the strength.”

Jill smiles, brushing hair from your face. “All I ask is that you try. We miss you.”

You three ascend the stairs, Jill locking arms with you as if you’d run away. You make it to the main deck, seeing Hortense and a few new faces sitting in a circle. Hortense waves, signaling you three to join in. “_____, it is so good for you to join us!”

“It’s, um, great to be here.” You say, trying to come off as happy. 

You, Jill, and Torgal join the circle, quick introductions being passed around before Hortense starts her lesson. She is doing a lesson on basic sewing techniques using cross-stitching circles, showing everyone different patterns, styles, and methods for different types of fabrics. One of the new arrivals, Greta you remember her name being, was looking at your stitching constantly. You turn to look at her, and she quickly turns away. You look at her work, and you can tell she is struggling a little bit. 

“Hey,” you say slightly above a whisper. “Try this.”

You show her a trick when it comes to tightening the thread, making it so it won’t want to fall apart. “Okay, now you try.”

Greta follows your method to a T, going slowly as she does it from memory. She smiles, seeing how well it worked. “That’s genius! Thank you so much!”

You nod, going back to your own work with a subtle smile on your face. You remember when you first learned how to sew, and how difficult it was for you. You remember when you had to learn on your own, Hortense having too much on her plate. You forgot how good it was to help others, and even if this feeling is for a moment, you feel lighter. You face Jill to see her glancing at you, a grin on her face as she continues messing with her circle of fabric. You know she is punching the air in success in her mind right now.

The session lasts for roughly an hour, and Hortense puts it to a close. “I’ll hold another class next week. Feel free to practice in the meantime.”

‘Yes ma'am’ is said in unison, and everyone departs to get ready for supper. You and Jill stay behind, helping Hortense put stuff away and create small chatter. As you all finish up, you pull Jill aside, feeling the need to say something. “Jill, I want to thank you. But most importantly, I want to apologize for not being there for you as well. I promise to do better by you.”

“Oh, _____,” Jill coos, bringing you in for a hug. “It’s okay. I understand your pain. We will get through this.” 

You two continue like this, and all you can think is maybe this is a new start. Maybe you can start grieving in a better way than you have been. You know it won’t happen overnight, but after days of feeling like you’ve been dragged into a hole, you sense you can see the light. 

Someone is yelling from afar, and you pull back to see a woman walking quickly to Hortense, a basket of what looks to be freshly clean linens in her hands. You and Jill walk over to see the commotion, only to see another new face. Hortense motions you two over, grinning from ear to ear with the woman beside her. “Ah, _____! I don’t think the two of you have met. This is Willow. She’s been helping me a lot with many of the laundry duties.” 

“Oh Lady _____, it is so lovely to meet you.” Willow says, bowing her head slightly. “Also, lovely to see you again Lady Jill.”

You bow slightly, not used to such formalities towards yourself. Jill chimes in, glee in her tone. “You as well. Thank you for helping Hortense during this time. I know she surely appreciates it.”

“Of course!” Willow chirps. “I was coming over here to tell her the linens for the beds are done. Lady ____, I was able to clean your sheets as well so you will have a freshly made bed for tonight.”

You stop breathing, your ears deceiving you. “W-what?”

Willow was still smiling, not catching on to the atmospheric shift. “Your sheets! Hortense got me to get all the bed linens for a wash, but I went ahead and had your bed made as a good gesture.” 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and your vision is starting to blur. She cleaned the sheets. She cleaned Clives sheets. Not yours, but Clives. The one thing you had left of him, the one thing that still smelled like him, the one thing that made it feel like he wasn’t completely gone from the world, vanishing right before your eyes. You are starting to breathe hard, everything around you is no longer real. It is just you being thrown back into your suffocating glass box, and being thrown back into that dreaded hole. You can hear voices, but can’t distinguish what is being said. It’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder that the glass shatters, leaving you bloody in the dark, dank hole. 

You collapse, the flood gates opening with shrieks and agonizing sobs. You are hitting the wood, small splinters digging into your fist as you continue. You didn’t care because no pain was more painful than what you are feeling right now. You hear running, and more commotion in the background.

“There is nothing to see here, take your leave.” It’s Gav. It fucking Gav.

“_____, please get up. What happened?” 

“This is my fault.” Hortense says mortified. “I didn’t tell Willow that room was off limits.”

Your breathing is now rapid, sucking air and pushing it out because it isn’t enough. Arms wrap around you and you thrash around, yelling and screaming to let you go. “Get the fuck off of me!”

Gav has you upright and the rage you are now feeling bubbles out, turning into hitting his chest. “You are the only other person that goes in there, and you didn’t notice the fucking sheets were gone?! How could you let this happen?!”

“Please, _____. I just got back from Lostwing. I haven’t been there since early this morning.” Gav reasons, getting a grip on you with your arms secure so you wouldn’t do something you regret. 

“That was all I had left of him.” You wail. “All I had was his scent and now it’s gone! It’s all fucking gone! He’s gone!” 

“I got her from here. You three go have dinner.” Gav picks you up bridal style, walking up the main deck stairs. You are still crying, and your vision is blurry but you can still make out what is behind you. Willow is hugging Hortense, both visibly upset. But then you see Jill, who is standing there looking at the ground, none moving. Torgal is nudging her, but she won’t budge. 

I’m sorry, Jill. I broke my promise.

Day 31

One month. It has been one month since Clive’s death, and you are no longer alive; a living corpse that lays in bed for days and days on end. You only get up to use the privy chambers, but other than that you lay there. Nothing is enjoyable anymore. The idea of going to the Backyard, to the Shelves, or even the Ale House is unappealing. Gav usually brings you food, sometimes Jill, but you barely touch it. You eat a little, but your appetite is non-existent; you eat only when your stomach tells you to. 

People don’t visit you like they did. Sometimes Jill, Tarja, and even Jote would come in for a short time. They would try talking to you, they would rub your side to bring comfort, they would brush your hair, yet you wouldn’t react. Those visits have slowly dissipated, and you can’t blame them. 

You hate what Clive’s passing has turned you into. You never thought grief would transform you so poorly. Grief isn’t new to you, just as it isn’t new for most people in the realm. You grieved when your parents passed, you grieved when Hideaway members didn’t return from missions, you grieved when Titan and his Dhalmekian goons killed so many innocent people in the Old Hideaway. But Clive is your one true love; the one man that was able to intertwine his soul with yours. They say once the soul has been torn into two, it never fully recovers. 

You get up from the bed with all the strength you can muster. As you stand, you face the mirror from across the room, and what you see makes you shutter. You walk over slowly, not quite believing that it is you in the reflection. Your fingertips drag along the cool surface, slightly dissociating in the process. What was once full and bright features were now hollowed from lack of sleep, crying, lack of appetite, and the grief that’s swallowing you.

“By the Founder, I look dreadful.” 

You want to heal. You want to get better. Your soul is waiting for your shell of a body to hatch, so it may continue to live. But how can you do that in a place where everywhere you look, you see him? Every corner of the Hideaway is covered with Clive’s aspirations, dreams, and ideas. If you want to move on, to grieve healthily, you can’t stay here. You need to be somewhere that takes you back to a time before Clive.

The moon shines brightly in the room, giving you enough light to maneuver around. You pack a small bag of your belongings, only with things that would benefit your travels, and dress yourself in clothes to protect you from the elements. Once situated, you walk over to what was once Clive’s desk and sit down. You grab the quill and a scroll, and look at the blank paper. Your eyes start to water, knowing this decision will ruffle some feathers, and will create a form of worry you won’t be here to satiate. You think about getting back into bed and forgetting about what you are about to do, but you know this is a must. You are holding everyone in the Hideaway back, and you can’t support the cause if you aren’t getting better. 

You must do this, so therefore you write. 

-

“What do you mean she left?” Jill raises her voice, the shock clear in her tone. 

Gav had come into Clive’s old chambers to send some letters out to town leaders when he saw the bed was empty and made, with a scroll lying on top of the pillow. When Gav opened it, and read the words on the page, he immediately called for an urgent meeting with the main Hideaway members. 

“She left this on the bed.” Gav states solemnly, passing it to Otto who is on his right. “Long story short, she doesn’t want to be found. She didn’t give a direct location to where she was heading. All she said is she will send word when she is ready to communicate.”

“She isn’t in the right state of mind to go out by herself!” Tarja says with irritation. “What is she thinking?!”

“How would she have even left? We only have one boat, no?” Tomes questions.

“We have a second boat in case the one Obolus uses is in need of repair.” Otto mutters, looking at the scroll a tad longer before passing it off to the next person. 

Jill stands up from her seat, huffing as she turns to take her leave. Gav stands with her, already reading her mind. “Where the bloody fuck you think you’re going?!

“Rather than us wasting our breath, I’m going to go find her!” Jill shouts, frustration built into her face. 

Tarja stands up quickly to grab Jill’s arm. “Now wait a damn second. We need a plan before we start going out willy nilly.”

“As you said, she isn’t in the right mindset to be out by herself. She could be dead in a ditch for all we know.” Jill seethes, pissed that nobody seems to be as fearful for her friend as she is. 

“She is strong, Jill.” 

Everyone turns to Jote, who is never one to chime in unless need be. She is holding the scroll, looking at it as she speaks. “I don’t know her as well as you all may, but from what I do know she is very resilient. She wouldn’t leave unless necessary, and this letter proves as much.”

Everyone is quiet, thinking caps on as they process Jote’s words. The first words spoken after the pregnant silence is Otto, turning to Gav seriously. “Gav, you are the leader of the Hideaway now. It is your call.”

Gav ponders for a moment, a bit torn of what action is best to take. You are family and he wants to know you are safe. He also doesn’t want to get in the way of what you need to do to get better. He fears sending Hideaway members out to find you will make things worse. 

“I think,” Gav pauses, sighing in the process. “I will alert town leaders around Valisthea to keep their eyes peeled for her. If she doesn’t want to be bothered, we shouldn’t intrude. Getting a location on her though would be beneficial for us to ensure she is at least safe.”

“Gav is right,” Otto agrees. “She will need to go into towns for essentials and will probably pass through a few.”

“If we don’t hear anything within a month's time, we will start sending out some search parties, but as I said we cannot bother her if we find her. We have to hope she will reach out to us when she is ready.” Gav continues, giving everyone a once over to see if his words are reciprocated.

Agreements are shared, some more hesitant than others, before Gav dismisses everyone to their daily duties. When the last person leaves, Gav collapses into his seat, taking deep breaths as he runs his hands over his face. 

“May Greagor be with you, _____.” Gav whispers to himself.

Day 40

You can’t sleep, constantly shifting under the covers with no sense of relief. You feel hot, which is abnormal for this cool night. You start to burn up, skin flaring until it starts to burn. You sit up, panicking as you throw the covers off of you before you freeze, breath caught in your throat. In the moonlight, there is a figure sitting across the room from you, head bowed down with arms in their lap. You panic in silence, not knowing whether to fight or flight.

“You’re awake.” That voice. You know that voice all too well. 

“C-Clive?” You stutter, not trusting your voice to break the quiet. 

Silence suffocates the room. You wait for a response, but he just sits there. You move off the bed and walk towards him slowly, feeling off about what you are experiencing. He’s dead. Metia’s star went out. This can’t be real.

You are standing in front of him now, your bare toes touching his boots. He still doesn’t move, so you move your hands to his head, messing with the strands of hair from his head. “Clive, is it really you?” 

“You left.” You pause, his tone off. Is he not happy to see me?  

“Clive, I thought you were dead. We all did.”

“And yet, you still left.” He growls, finally moving his hands to grip your waist tightly, on the verge of pain. “You promised to wait for me. You broke that promise.”

“Clive,” you choke. “I’m sorry I-”

“You broke your promise to Jill.”

“I didn’t mean to!” 

“You abandoned the Hideaway, my legacy, like it was nothing!”

“Clive, you’re hurting me.” You are crying now. His fingers are digging into your side hard, and you look to see he is shaking with anger. 

“This is nothing in comparison to how you have hurt me!” He yells, and he lifts his head, causing you to gasp. His eyes are orange, glowing bolder and bolder the more worked up he got. You try to pry his grip off of you, but to no avail. 

“Please, Clive!” You cry harder. “I love you, I'm sorry for leaving! I should have stayed!”

“You are too late, _____.” He seethes. 

“Because I don’t love you anymore.”

You shoot up from your bed, screaming in a cold sweat. You look around the room like a mad woman, trying to gauge your surroundings. A wave of nausea overcomes you and you fall to the floor, vomiting from the absolute madness that occurred in your head. You dry heave on the floor, waiting for the next course of nausea to arrive but it never came. You sat up so your back was against the bed, relieved you weren’t going to be sick again, yet frustrated all the same.

You arrived in Dhalmekia four days ago. Originally, you set out to find your childhood home where you grew up with your parents, but when you arrived at the village off to the left of the Northern Velkroy, it had all but been abandoned. Your home, that was left with memories of your old life, ravaged from what you could assume to be bandits. So you kept going, hitchhiking a few rides before traveling on foot. That is when you found a small, two room cottage down in the Fields of Corava, a place you weren’t aware of, having never been south of Dalimil. There was minimal damage; a broken window and some chipped flooring. It was a better place to stay for the time being.

Ever since arriving, however, your mind has conjured terrible dreams with it being the same every time. It was always you and Clive in this room with him degrading your worth. The first night didn’t feel real, knowing that Clive would never act as such with you. But tonight, after having it for the fourth time in a row, your heart is waning.

You stare at the chair you saw Clive in, an increasing amount of anguish washing over you as you look. He’s gone. Your fingers dig into your thighs, trying to ground yourself. He’s gone. You start to choke on air, not wanting the cries of grief released from your lungs. He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s fucking gone!

The shell cracks, the quiet night becomes piercing as you scream. You shoot up to the chair, taking it and bashing it into the floor. You keep screaming, the splinters from the chair and the floor growing with each smack. No matter the ache your body is having, the adrenaline rushing through your it has given your grief new purpose; a cathartic event that is shaping your mentality.

The chair is nothing but wood; the bare bones of it. You get up to open the door, chucking the wood outside the door with rage. The splintered wood digs into your hands, your emotional distress covering any semblance of physical pain. Your screams have turned into wails, angry tears dripping from your face to the floor. 

This rage inside of you stirred by grief makes you feel like you're dying. If anyone told you that Clive’s death would make you transform into the living dead, you’d laugh. How could anyone make you feel dead when you were the cheerful jack of the Hideaway? 

The wood is now dispersed all across the field before you, bathing in the pure light of the moon. You sink into the cottage where the dark swallows you, slamming the door shut and sliding down it as your body continues its assault. Your bloody hands grip at your hair as you rock back and forth, chanting the same two words over and over.

He’s gone.

Day 70

The atmosphere at the Hideaway was the same like any other day. People were up doing their tasks or simply enjoying the day; it has been the same old, same old. 

That is, until the bell on the pier sounded off.

“What is going on?!” Jill yells, everyone looking over the main deck to see the commotion. The bell is only used for emergencies, like if an enemy were to approach the Hideaway. However, Jill sees that people weren’t panicking, but rejoicing. 

Gav runs up to Jill alarmed, trying to get a sense of what’s happening. “Oh fuck me! What’s going on?!” 

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Jill says, her and Gav picking up the pace as they walk to see the situation at hand; both ready to take action. The two of them push through the crowd, finally reaching the railing that sees over the pier. The first instant Jill looks down, a gasp is let out with her hand covering her mouth and eyes bulging. 

“No fucking way,” Gav whispers, not quite believing what he is seeing.

But their eyes do not betray them, for the bell has rang not for an emergency situation, but a message that he is alive. Clive is alive. 

“He made it… Great Greagor he fucking made it!” Gav cheers.

“Clive!” Jill yells.

Clive looks up to the main deck to see two of his cherished friends, and right as he makes eye contact with them, he makes a run for the lift. Gav and Jill follow his lead, running in the direction he is to come to officially greet him. The minute Clive steps out from the lift, Gav and Jill are on him, hugging him tightly to make sure he isn’t here to haunt the place.

“You’re alive!” Jill elates.

“I apologize for my late return. I didn’t realize I’d be sorely missed.” Clive jokes, watching as more people gather around them.

“Are you kidding? This place has been falling apart without you!” Gav exaggerates.

It makes Clive chuckle, placing his hand on Gav’s shoulder as he pulls back. “Seeing all the new faces, I doubt that. And that is thanks to you. Thank you for keeping the Hideaway safe.”

Clive feels something rub his leg, and looks to see Torgal rubbing his head against him. He bends down, using his good arm to rub behind Torgal’s ears. “Torgal, have you been a good boy since I’ve been away?”

“Clive,” Jill gasps. “You’re arm.”

During Clive’s travels back home, his arm had become more of a nuisance if anything. He is a strong man; he can wield swords made of the heaviest metals, no problem. But to have an appendage weigh more than the other, well, that is a whole different situation. He had ripped part of his cape and created a sling to keep his arm in place, making travel more bearable.

Clive stands up straight, rubbing his stoned arm. “Yeah… I didn’t get away completely unscathed.” Clive draws out. “But nevertheless, we won.”

“What of Joshua and Dion?” Jill asks, even though the look in her eyes tells him she already knows. All he could do was shake his head.  

“I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do.” Clive says, having much to tell. 

“You will, but not before we get your arm sorted out.”

“Of course,” Clive chuckles, and turns to see Tarja with her arms crossed and hip out. He is so happy to be back amongst friends and family, ready to truly cherish his time after a battle where he could have easily perished. But most importantly, he is ready to see you.

Truth be told, Clive’s travels back to Valisthea were consumed mostly by you. All he could think about was how he craves for you to be in his warm embrace, giving him kisses and caresses that would heal him for a lifetime. To be away from you for so long is agony, and what has kept him going was knowing the future is now his and yours; one where you both can live lives worth living. 

He looks around and sees a bunch of familiar faces approach, his original crew gathering around him as they welcome his return. He scans the crowd, nodding to everyone and granting a smile. However, he doesn’t see you within the sets of familiar faces. 

“Where’s _____?” Clive asks, scanning the crowd once more for your face.

Everyone goes silent, glancing at one another trying to communicate. An uneasy feeling settles in Clive’s pit, not liking the reaction he got with his simple question. 

Tarja is the first to speak up, diverting the question quickly with urgency. “We can talk about her later, but first we need to do something about your arm straight away. Jill. Gav. Take him to the infirmary. I’ll be up there shortly.” There was a look in Tarja’s eyes that told Clive she wouldn’t be there for a while, which made that uneasy feeling grow bolder. 

Gav and Jill suddenly hook arms with Clive on either side, walking fast so he had no choice but to follow. Clive could feel himself getting frustrated, having wanted to see you for days upon days and not being granted that wish immediately upon his return. 

He leans down to Jill’s ear, needing an explanation immediately. “Where is she?”

“It is better we explain once we are upstairs.” Jill reasons, although there is a shake in her voice.  

The four of them get into the infirmary, Jill and Gav situating Clive on a cot. Gav whispers to Jill, her nodding in response as he jogs out of the room. Clive looks at her, a million thoughts running through his head at their peculiarness. 

“Jill, what is happening?”

Jill twiddles her thumbs, taking deep breaths as she prepares herself. She looks down at the floorboards, and Clive can feel the tension in the room. “Some things happened while you were away, Clive.” Her breath trembles. “You aren’t going to be happy with what I’m about to say.”

“You are worrying me, Jill.” Clive says, trying to stay calm. “Please tell me what’s happened.”

Jill looks up, eyes starting to gloss over. She places her hands over Clive’s right hand, squeezing it gently. “The night of Origin. Metia’s star went out, and I couldn’t feel you anymore after that. I thought you were dead.

“Jill,” Clive says in a low tone. “I apologize for causing so much grief.”

“We all thought you died.” Jill laughs solemnly. “Seeing you right now doesn’t feel real.” 

Clive squeezes Jill’s hands as a means to comfort her, as well as to urge her to continue. She shakes her head, tears as icy Shiva’s magick slipping down her face. “We all took it very hard. Some held hope, but after weeks of no signs of your return, everyone had accepted it.”

Jill’s breath stutters. “But Greagor, Clive. _____ took it so hard.” The tears started to fall, Jill shaking as she continued. “She wouldn’t get out of bed, wouldn’t eat… oh Greagor she wouldn’t talk to anyone. She would just lay there no matter what we tried to do.”

Clive thinks his heart just tore. The thought of you like that made him ill. And the past tense of Jill’s words make the air all the more suffocating.

“Where is she, Jill? Let me see her, please.” He pleads, needing to show you that he lives and has come back to her.

“I’m sorry,” Jill cries, her head bowing onto their intertwined hands. “I’m so sorry, Clive.”

“Jill talk to me, please!” He begs before hearing the door to the infirmary open, only to see Gav with a small scroll in his hand. 

“Gav, you need to tell me what has happened.” Clive says sternly, knowing another second longer with no answer will send him into a frenzy. 

Gav shows him the scroll, making Clive gently let go of Jill’s hands to reach for it but before he could grab it Gav backed away. “When you read this, know that we have plans enacted.”

Gav hands it to him, taking another step back to give Clive more space. Clive unravels the scroll quickly, the need for answers strong. And he gets his answer, but that answer makes his skin run cold and go hot at the same time.

Gav,

I apologize for putting this on you. I know your transition as the new Cid has been a lot, and I am sorry for making it much harder for you. This space is yours now. Not Clive’s, nor mine.

You know as well as the others I am not well. A part of me died the day Clive passed, and being here has made any progress of healing not happen. Truth is, I see him everywhere. Everything here reminds me of him, and it’s killing me because one moment I see him and the next I don’t. The grief that has consumed me has become everlasting. 

By the time you read this, I will be far gone. Please, I beg of you, do not come find me. Do not send anyone to come find me. I will not come back, at least for now. Any chance of me getting better is for me to go out there, not stay here. I know this will cause worry, and I apologize for being a nuisance, but I have no choice. It’s either I die out there trying or I stay here rotting. 

Tell the others I’m sorry, especially Jill, and take care of her. Once I’m ready, I’ll send word of my whereabouts. Until then, please let me grieve in peace.

Much obliged,

_____

Clive is seeing red. His fist starts to squeeze the paper, crackles and the sound of a tear coming from it. “When did she leave?” 

“It’s been about a month.” Gav mutters, and everything that happens next is a blur. Clive shoots up from the bed, charging towards Gav before slamming him into the door.

“Clive, please don’t!” Jill cries.

“She’s been gone for a month?! And you have yet to find her?!” Clive yells, his fist gripping tightly onto Gav’s leathers.

“We have notified people on the outside to keep us posted.” Gav tries to reassure. “That is what the Hideaway members have agreed on.” His words do nothing to soothe him. If he still had his magick, he is sure hellfire would rain on the Hideaway.

“She needed time, Clive.” Jill rests her hand on his shoulder. “We chose to respect her wishes.”

He scoffs, backing away from the both of them, disbelief clear on his features. “You agreed to this too?”

“You were not here to witness what we did!” Jill yells agitated. “Clive, I understand your frustration, but if you saw how she was you wouldn’t think twice.”

He wants to stay angry, put the blame on someone selfishly. You’ve done so much for the Hideaway, the cause, everyone involved. How could they let you leave? But all he feels is defeat. He came too late, and now he needs to make up for lost time.

“Excuse me,” Clive mutters, walking towards the door Gav is still leaning against. 

Jill shoots herself to grab the upper half of his petrified arm, a grunt forced out at the pulling tension. “Clive, you need to stay right here so Tarja can do something about your arm.” 

“No, I am going to go out and look for her! She needs to know I’m alive!” He tries shaking her grip off his arm, but to no avail as she holds on tighter. Panic is starting to set in, not knowing where you are and if you are safe freaking him out. It is almost as if he is experiencing firsthand what you went through. 

Gav steps forward, putting his hands on Clive’s shoulders shaking him slightly. “We have cursebreakers looking for her daily now that the month of her leave has passed. We will find her. And now that you are back, we will bring her home.” 

“Once you are better, we will go with you to search for her. But for right now, you need to rest. Let the cursebreakers do what they’ve been assigned to do.” Jill reassures. “Let’s get you ready for Tarja. The sooner she can fix you up, the faster you can go out.”

Clive takes a deep breath before nodding, and lets Jill and Gav guide him back to the cot. He sits back down, and all he can do is look down at the floorboards. Anger and defeat have turned into a sadness he cannot fully comprehend; a feeling he hasn’t quite felt before. “Do you two mind giving me some time alone? Please.”

“Of course, Clive. We will be outside if you need anything.” Jill says, before the sound of four feet patter across the floor and the creak of the door opens and closes, leaving Clive completely alone.  

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that; unmoving, eyes glued to the floor. All he thinks is he should have found a way to send a message to you so you knew he had survived. Deep down, he knows there was nothing he could have done given his circumstances, but that doesn’t stop the blame game he is putting upon himself. So he sits there, wallowing in his heartache as his shoulders shake and throat lets out faint sobs.

The letter is still held tightly in his grasp. 

Day 71

Waking up early in the morning before the sun makes its greeting isn’t abnormal for you, not when you dream constantly. Sometimes your dreams would startle you. Sometimes they would make you wake up crying. Sometimes they would wake you up with a smile on your face. But the time is always the same; the moon is always there to tell you the time of the morning and you fall back into a deep sleep before the sun shows itself. However, this time is different. 

In recent days, you’ve had nothing but wonderful dreams. Not ones like when you first came here, or ones about a future no longer possible. They were dreams of the past, deja vu in nature. Fond memories of you and Clive ranging from the first time you laid eyes on him to the last. What’s different about your calling back to the real world is your eyes open to hues of yellow and orange shining through the window. It is not the moon’s beams that greet you, but the sun’s rays.

You get out of bed and go to the door, opening it to step out onto the field. The early morning air hits your skin, the grass licking at your feet as you continue forward. You trek to the spot between the elevated land, a v-shape displaying the rising sun as it continues its ascent. Your hand goes out in front of you, watching your skin transform as the sun’s colors grow brighter. You can’t help but smile at the sight before you because all you feel is peace. For once since Valisthea changed forever, you felt like everything will be okay. 

You think about the first time you and Clive watched the sunrise together, holding each other tightly as you both talk about how it is a new day full of hopes and dreams. You remember him telling you how he has never felt more alive than he did in that moment, and you can understand why; you understand because you feel the same. 

You know Clive would want you to live to the fullest, for that was what he wanted all along. Even if things didn’t turn out the way they should have, he would have wanted you to live for him, but most importantly for yourself. He would want you to remember your time together fondly, and that it wasn’t for nothing. It was everything. 

You inhale deeply, the scents of the morning filling your airways before you exhale. You continue to look out on the horizon, mesmerized by the beauty of a new day; a new start .

“I deserve to be happy, right Clive?” You whisper to yourself. “I will continue to live for you and for me. Starting now.”

This is the start of your new life. 

Day 172

“These are absolutely beautiful, my lady. These are so hard to find in Dhalmekia.” 

You smile brightly, watching the woman before you admire your handy work. “I’m pleased that you love them. Morgenbeards are native to the swampy waters in Rosaria, but I was able to get my hands on some seeds.”

“You must know your stuff to get them to grow here.” The lady continues.

You shake your head, grinning at her. “I have my ways.”

To say things have gotten better would be the greatest understatement in history because you are thriving. It is as if everything has fallen into place. You fixed up the small cottage you are residing in so it felt more like a home rather than a temporary visit. You did a lot of prep work to ensure you’d live comfortably. The greatest thing, however, is you found a way to make a living for yourself, the one thing you do best: grow flowers. 

You noticed how flowers grew in the fields, yet you could tell they needed help; the Dhalmeky dirt too dry to keep them alive for long. You were able to get some books on flower gardening, along with different kinds of seeds, all imported from merchants who graciously accepted the little gil you had. It took some time, but those things helped you open a flower shop out of your home. And thus far, it has been a wonderful success.

You had taken a flower cart to Dalimil to get your name out there, and to let people know where to find your business. You eventually want to move your business within the inn’s market, but when you had come to propose the idea, you found out Lubor had been gone on an expedition. The cart will have to do, you recalled thinking. The people there have been nothing but supportive, offering their business in exchange for theirs: vases, business signs, gardening supplies, etcetera. It was a good system that benefitted you and them. You were grateful.

You are sitting at the kitchen table, having closed shop for the day, sipping on some hot tea as you write down your daily earnings. A hard day’s work is rewarding, and knowing your flowers have made your customers happy makes you happy. To be doing things that feel worthwhile feels good, and the last time you felt this way was when you lived at the Hideaway.

The Hideaway. You stop writing as you reminisce about those times. It really wasn’t that long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime. Have I changed that much? 

You miss everyone dearly. You miss Tarja’s tough love. You miss Mid’s inventiveness. You miss Otto’s gruffness. You miss Tome’s stories of his travels. You miss Jote’s coolness. You miss Gav’s banter. You miss Torgal’s way of comforting you. You miss Jill’s faith. You miss everyone. You often wonder if they miss you too.

You are surprised no one has come looking for you, or have found you if they were. You think about what they must have thought when you left that letter. Were they angry? Sad? Worried? All three? Did they listen to you when you said you didn’t want to be found or did they nonstop look day and night for you? You couldn’t tell. Not unless you find out for yourself. 

You set the daily earnings paper aside, and lay out a fresh one, your quill hovering over the paper as you think of what to say. There are so many words to say, yet you don’t know where to start. Do you share everything? Do you just tell them you are okay? Do you tell them where you are? So many questions to answer with little paper to write it all out. So you write something simple, hoping it gets the message across.

I hope this finds you well. Come see me if you wish. You all know where to find me.

Day 179

Clive’s search for you has been non-stop, days and nights spent looking for trails only to find dead ends. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get how you could have disappeared without a trace. But that will not deter him. He will not stop looking until he finds you.

Every place that Clive could think of they checked. Areas in Dhalmekia were the first places they looked, knowing you knew the area better than others. The very first place they checked was your childhood home near the Northern Velkroy, but it didn’t look like there were any signs of life there. Different towns within the area were checked but no one had heard or seen you. Hell, they were more surprised to see him alive and well to focus on the whereabouts of a lost woman. He understood, but it grated his nerves. 

Every other place in Valisthea had been scouted and marked as they went, but every location and mark was the same. So here he was, writing letters to town leaders of the cause again to be his eyes. You have to show up somewhere eventually, if you haven’t already. 

As every day passes, his heart wanes further. It yearns for you, calling out its other half to be complete again. When he does rest, granted not for long periods of time, he imagines you are lying with him. He holds a pillow close in his arms, picturing it to be you to subdue his crazed heart and mind. It was nice to pretend, but then he wakes up and is sorely disappointed to see what lies in his arms is just that: a pillow. It’s a cycle because the same thought crosses his mind each and every time: the day you are back in his arms will be a momentous day. That day has yet to come.

He keeps writing the same words over and over on different sheets of paper when he hears commotion from beyond his doors. The fighting instinct in him shoots up, running to the door to see what was happening when he sees Otto, Jill, and Gav running towards him.

“Has something happened?” Clive asks, alarmed. 

Otto reaches Clive first, shoving a piece of paper into his hand. “She has communicated with us.”

Clive couldn’t read the paper fast enough, not quite believing this day had come. He rings out the paper to straighten it before reading her handwriting. “She is staying in a cottage in the Fields of Corava.” 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get the lass back!” Gav expresses with full excitement, springs basically on the bottom of his feet with how bouncy he is. 

Jill pats Gav on the back. “Gav, let’s let Clive go alone.” She then turns to face Clive, an understanding smile greeting him. “They will need some time together.”

“Thank you, Jill.” Clive says softly. “I thank all of you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case…” Gav draws out, approaching Clive before slamming his hand on his shoulder, “you better get cleaned up! You have a lady to see.” 

Clive laughs at Gav’s antics, and turns to ready himself; ready himself to return to you once and for all.

Day 184

It’s late in the morning as you gather flowers into your basket, trimming and cutting the ones that have bloomed beautifully. The flower gardens in the field were flourishing more and more every day. The more you work in the gardens, the more fulfillment you feel. You felt this when you helped out in the Backyard, but what you built here is from your own doing. You believe it to be a testament to your growth, showing that you made the right decision all those months ago. You’ve created your own little utopia, and to share it with others is a beautiful thing.

As you cut fresh flowers, you start to wonder if people at the Hideaway got your letter. You would love for them to come visit, and see what you have done with the place. You wonder if they will ever come to see you or if they will send a letter back. It could be any day now, and you will be ready.

You have a full basket of flowers ready to be put in vases, and before you can get up to head inside you see a shadow lingering above your form. “I’m sorry, but I won't be open for another couple of hours.”

There is no reply, and the shadow remains as still as a statue. You sigh, standing up to turn and be more clear with your words. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I still need to se-”

The flower basket falls from your grasp, tumbling out and falling into a heap by your feet. Time has frozen, not feeling real as you look at the person you have longed to see for months. You question if you are hallucinating, having had moments where you would see Clive one second and the next he was gone. This, however, was different.

The man before you was not in uniform; just a simple white tunic that displayed a few of his chest curls at the v-cut and regular black trousers with his leather boots. His face was clean-shaven, the facial hair he had kept for so long absent from his face making him look younger. The biggest difference, however, was his left arm; from his elbow down was gone. How could this be hallucination?

“Am I dreaming or is this real?” You breathe, blinking a few times to see if he’d disappear. He didn’t.

He takes a step forward, grabbing one of your hands to place it over his heart. He is warm, his heart fluttering quickly. He is looking down into your eyes, where you see his baby blues grow glossy. “This is real.” He murmurs. “I’m home, sweetheart.”

Something about his words break you, your hands latching onto his shirt to hold yourself to reality. He’s home. My Clive is home. 

You can’t help the sobs that leave your mouth as you bury your face into his chest, making him wrap his arm around you as you both collapse down into the flower beds. You are feeling every emotion under the sun, and you can tell Clive does too as he holds you in his lap. He cries with you, sharing a reunion so pure that it is overwhelming. You lift your head and bring his face to yours, kissing him so deeply that your lungs shake. Exchanges of small words come out between the two of you as you give each other kisses that have been longed for. 

“I never thought I’d see this day.” You say with a wobble in your tone, kissing him again and again. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Clive croaks, and goes back in for your lips.

There you both make up for lost time; holding onto each other in a field of flowers where kisses and touches are continuously exchanged.

- 

You and Clive eventually went inside. You turn the sign on your door to ‘close’, so no one can bother you two. You watch Clive look around the place, taking in your little set up of flowers on the kitchen table.

“I apologize for the mess. I’ve had a lot of requests over the last few days believe it or not.” 

Clive looks at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least. You’ve always had a way with flowers. Speaking of which…”

He reaches into his pocket, only to pull out the lily you had given him all that time ago. You gasp, surprised he has kept hold of it. “You still have it? But how?”

“I protected it with my life.” Clive sets it onto the table. “You gave it to me with the wish that I’d return to you. I wasn’t going to lose it easily.”

“You are so endearing.” You say, but you have so many things you want to know and that alone puts a small frown on your face.

Clives sees the shift immediately, grabbing your hand to console you. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

“What happened at Origin, Clive?” You ask, needing to know what he went through for the time he was gone.

Clive exhales, seemingly knowing that question was coming. He pulls your hand towards him as he walks to your bed. “We should sit down. It is a long story.”

The two of you sit down and Clive still has a tight hold on one of your hands. “Forgive me, for this may take me a second. Thinking about certain events there still hurts.”

You bring your free hand to his face, which feels smooth under your touch. His head leans into your palm, turning slightly to kiss the delicate skin. “Take all the time you need. I am here.” You murmur. 

And so, he tells the tale of Origin. He tells you about Dion’s sacrifice. He tells you about what he found out about Ultima’s plans. He tells you about Joshua’s passing, something he had a hard time conveying without his voice breaking, but he pushed on. He tells you about Ultima’s demise. He tells you about how he woke up somewhere off the Shadow Coast of Storm. And he tells you how throughout his journey back to Valisthea, all he could think about was how he couldn’t wait to come home to you. All of it was hard to listen to, hearing what he went through from Origin till now. 

“So, Metia going out was a sign that magick has been lost…” 

“Mmm,” he hums, the both of you lying down now.

“So that’s why you didn’t become wholly petrified? You stopped it in time.”

“Tarja did a great job removing it and ensuring my stub was healed properly, despite my stubbornness.” He jokes, but you don’t laugh. All you can think about is the past.

“If only I waited a little longer,” you start. “I would have saved us so much grief.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself.” Clive shushes, kissing the top of your head and pulling you closer into his body. “Jill told me you had a very hard time grieving. I will not shame you for doing something you felt was right.

You bury your head into Clive’s neck, breathing in something that is so undeniably him. “You know, when I first got here, I would have these dreams. Nightmares really.”

Clive stays silent, letting you continue. “It would always start and end the same. I would wake up with you in the room, and the next thing I knew you were telling me I had betrayed you… and that you no longer loved me.” You start to sniff, not liking to recall those dreams. “For such a long time, I felt I didn’t deserve to be happy because I had left part of your legacy behind. It felt like your ghost was haunting me day and night.”

“Oh, darling,” Clive pulls you into him so you are on top of him with legs on either side of him. Clive brings your forehead to his, his thumb coming up to swipe the tears building up in your eyes. “I could never not love you.” He looks deeply into you, burning the truth of his heart into you. “I am yours even beyond death.” 

His words overwhelm you, and you lean down to kiss him with every passionate fiber in your being. Your hands go to his torso, running your fingers up and down the sides as you continue to show him how much you love him. He grunts into your lips, his arm holding you down to him. Your hands start to slide slowly under his tunic, your fingers slowly ascending until they reach his chest only to go down again. The delicate touch of your fingers makes his hips buck right against your heat, a grunt and a moan echoing together simultaneously. Your hands go back up again, only this time you bring the tunic with you. 

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” You say against his lips.

Clive smirks at your boldness, only to flip you over on your back so he is hovering over you. “That we do, darling. Forgive me, though. Having one arm gives me less leverage.”

You hum, bringing him back down to you by his hair. “I’m sure we can manage.”

You two make love into the night and into the morning, not getting enough of one another; making up for lost time.

Day 200

Since you and Clive’s reunion, he had decided to stay for a while. He had sent a letter to the Hideaway to let them know you were well and that he would be staying for the time being, making Gav in charge. 

“He’ll love that.” You had joked.

“He’s his own man. I have all the faith in him.” 

These last few weeks have been sublime. When you wake up, you see Clive snoozing away beside you on your right; always the right so he can wrap his arm around you in his sleep. He has also helped you with the flower shop. You two would go out in the morning before the heat set in to work the ground and water the flowers. You don’t know if the yearning in your body has yet to be satiated, but there have been times when you would come outside to gather more flowers to see Clive with his shirt off, sweat glistening on his burly chest as he works. It takes every bone in your body not to jump his own. Most times, you are unsuccessful. 

You also found out Clive is quite the salesman. When you two would go out to Dalimil to sell from your cart, the way he is able to convince people to make a purchase is astounding. Is it the charm? The looks? A combination of both? You could guess, but it didn’t matter. Every time you made a sale, he would turn to give you a quick peck. 

“I would kiss you for every individual flower we sell, but we don’t want to scare them away now, do we?”

After a long day out in Dalimil, you two are now inside the cottage finishing up dinner. You are cleaning the dishes when you feel him behind you, wrapping his arm around you pulling your hips to his. You hum in a laughing manner, his friskiness showing as he places kisses on the side of your face. “Clive, let me finish these.”

“They aren’t going anywhere.” He hums, his kisses lingering below your ear. 

You sigh but continue cleaning. Clive, on the other hand, was not having it. He pulls you away, soap and water sloshing from your hands as he pulls you to him. He plops down onto the kitchen chair, bringing you into his lap. “Hmmm, I got you.”

“You are such a horn dog. Are you sure Ifrit still doesn’t linger within you?” You laugh, then squeak when he pinches your side.

“In all seriousness,” he murmurs in your ear. “I want to talk about something.”

“About?” You hum.

“About our future.” 

“Go on,” you urge. “What about our future?”

“Well,” Clive starts, “living the way we have the last couple weeks, my mind can’t stop wandering to what I want for us.”

Your hand reaches up to his cheek, only for him to nip at the tips of your fingers causing you to giggle. “Such as?”

“To start the life we’ve always talked about.” He places more kisses on your neck. “One where our lives are strictly ours. One where I come home to my beautiful wife.” 

“I like the sound of that.” You mewl, his kisses making you squirm in his lap.

“One where I get to see you bearing our child.” His hand goes down to your tummy, rubbing just above your uterus. 

“I’ll be surprised if I’m not already with all the love making we have done.” You giggle. 

He chuckles along with you, his hand squeezing your flesh. “You’d look beautiful. You always do.” He continues, “one where I get to raise a little me, a little you, or both.”

“It all sounds so wonderful.” You purr, feeling all warm and fuzzy at his remarks. 

“Then let’s go ahead with step one.” Clive says, lifting you off of him only to sit you back down. He kneels before you, both of your hands in his one. “I don’t have a ring, but I can’t wait a moment longer. _____, will you do me the utmost honor of marrying me?”

You hum, smiling brightly at his question. “Would you have me in a wedding dress? A big ceremony?”

“Anything your heart desires.”

You shake your head, laughing at his insistence. You look at him, letting yourself get swallowed by his eyes. “I’d marry you with just the clothes on my back.” 

Clive grins, bringing your left hand to his lips as he kisses your ring finger. “I cannot wait to marry you, future Lady Rosfield.”

Lady Rosfield. It has a nice ring to it.

#clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield #ffxvi x reader #ffxvi #clive rosfield angst #clive x reader #final fantasy xvi #my fics

[wyvernquill]

I'm rewatching Anastasia and this convo would really fit in your AU

Hob: look, Murphy, I'm just trying to help Murphy: do you really think I'm an Endless, Hob?

Hob: you know I do.

Murphy: then stop bossing me around

I'm sorry, this ask is already over a year old, but I finally got around to writing a scene based on it! (Plus some Murphy&Gil bits I wanted to put in somewhere, anyway.) Hope you enjoy!

[Mild warning for contemplation of one's potential death, and having once lost the will to life - I wouldn't call it suicidal ideation, it doesn't quite go there, but I figured I'd better be safe than sorry.]

Link to Anastasia AU Masterpost!

(Tag list, let me know if you want to be added or taken off: @10moonymhrivertam @martybaker @globglobglobglobob @anonymoustitans @sunshines-fabulous-legs @dreamsofapiratelife @malice-royaume @kcsandmanfan @acedragontype @okilokiwithpurpose @tharkuun @silver-dream89 @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch)

“Hob.” Murphy interrupts, eyes flashing with frustration.

(Today’s how-to-be-a-Dream-Lord lessons are not going well - not that any of them have, but this one is a particular catastrophe. Gil has already given up on their contrary charge for the evening, and with the way Murphy’s shoulders are up and tension bristles between them, Hob is unlikely to make much more headway tonight.)

“Tell me. Do you truly believe I am him? The Prince of Stories? The Dream King?”

“Yes,” Hob lies, easily, unflinchingly, and with a smile on his face. A good lie has to be treated like the truth, and maybe, one day, it’ll actually turn into one. They’ve been trying so very hard to teach Murphy this, he should know it by now. “Of course.”

“Then, perhaps,” Murphy spits, and despite his feral arrogance, despite the way he holds his head high and squares his slender shoulders, it’s not the regal indignation of a King, but the helpless tantrum of an angry child who’s failing in class. “You ought to finally treat me with the fucking deference an Endless is owed, Hob Gadling!”

(There are tears in his pale-blueish eyes, Hob can see them, can hear the crack in Murphy’s hoarse voice.

Nobody has treated this man with respect in all the years he remembers, that much is obvious. Nobody but his birds. And he knows, they all know, that he’s no prince, that his blood runs red, not blue - runs at all, come to think of it. Endless don’t bleed.

But he wants to be. He wishes he was. Murphy is not Dream of the Endless, but he is ravenous for the spoils of such a role. Desperate to be respected, to be worshipped and revered, desperate to be owed the sort of treatment he has never received.

Hob ought to be ashamed of himself for taking advantage of that helpless hunger for kindness and decency… and he will be. For the rest of his immortal life, he’ll live with the shame of what he did to cheat Death, and still not regret it.)

Hob plasters a smile over his impatience and opens his mouth, gentle, calming words already on the tip of his tongue. Murphy is lonely and frightened and frustrated, that much is obvious. Fine. Hob knew it wouldn’t be easy, to teach their false Dream all he needs to know, and this is not an insurmountable roadblock. If Hob can only reassure him, earn his trust, be his friend, even, it will make everything much easier. Poor thing, lashing out like an injured animal. But Hob can surely coax him into-

Murphy recoils. Flinches back from the admittedly-half-faked warmth, his face, his entire bearing collapsing into itself like a heavy portcullis rattling shut.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls, pointing one of his stick-thin fingers at Hob’s face, “don’t you DARE! I have no need for your false pity, and I want no part of it! I want-” the white of his eyes is bloodshot, and in his terror, in his fury, in his desperation, awash in unshed tears “-I want out. This deal is off. Find some other poor sucker to teach how to play Endless, I won’t do it! I’ve had enough!”

And before Hob can say as much as a single word, Murphy has snatched up his coat and slipped out onto the rainy street, Matthew following - but not after awarding Hob with a colder glare than he would’ve thought a mere raven capable of.

Murphy does not manage to flee very far.

He is in an unfamiliar town, with no money, no valuables besides the clothes on his back that are now slightly finer than he used to be; and the winter is cold and deep and stifling. He gets no further than a handful of streets until he slows halfway across a bridge, shaking with cold more than anger, snowflakes dancing around him. It is a quiet, windless night - and it has always calmed him, to stand underneath the dark sky at night, and know that most of the city lies asleep around him.

Matthew settles on the bridge’s parapet, caws. Hops closer, cocks his head to one side. There is a clear question in his bearing, a what now? glinting in his eyes. Birds are open and honest - unlike humans. Liars and hypocrites all.

“...I do not know, Matthew.” Murphy admits quietly. He has taken the coat, but forgotten the scarf in his haste, so he tugs at his collar, to keep the cold air from trickling down his spine. “I truly don’t.”

He does not have the means to return to London on his own - and at the same time, does not have much desire to do so. He had nothing and no-one there, but for the birds. Pockets can be picked anywhere - he could make a new start in this nameless town.

…if only it weren’t winter.

Murphy shivers, feeling his bones rattle with it. The night is calm, but bitterly cold, and it will not end well for him, sitting in the snow until morning. In the dark of winter, he cannot afford a night without shelter, a day without a sure way to come by some food to keep his strengths up. In London, he would have known where to go. Here, he is helpless.

Damn Hob Gadling, and may Destruction take him! Murphy will have no other choice but to crawl back to him, and hope he’ll be kept on as Endless-impersonator. Hope, because Murphy’s made a right pig’s ear of it so far, slow and clumsy to learn, and outright refusing to play at nobility. He will always be a gutter rat, Murphy knows it. They can’t fashion him into a Dream King, and perhaps this flare of temper will prove to Hob once and for all that there is no point in trying.

There is no point in trying.

Murphy gives up on his collar, and rests his hands on the parapet. Matthew caws, and presses his head against his arm, a far better reassurance than Hob’s false smiles. It comforts Murphy, at least a little. He’s not alone, never alone - no matter how lonely he might feel.

Underneath them, a foreign river flows just fast enough to avoid the freeze. The water does not reflect any stars, but the snow dancing over the surface makes it almost look as if. His own reflection wavers and breaks across the waves.

(Some nights, he dreams of a darkened shore and a sea stretching far past the horizon, black waters that fold up into the night sky, indistinguishable from each other. Of a wooden pier, and galaxies swirling underneath.

Whenever he leans out too far, the reflected eyes he meets are not his own, and he wakes with a scream lodged in his throat.)

Murphy shivers again, and savours the last remnants of his pride, before it, too, will have to be cast into the dirt and abandoned.

“I believe you forgot this, young friend.”

Murphy’s head snaps up.

Dreams and nightmares approach without a whisper, perfectly silent at night if they choose to be. Gilbert is no exception; and if Murphy were to pay attention to anything but his heart racing like a startled hare, he would perhaps be a little distressed by the fact that there are no fresh footprints in the snow beside his own.

But it’s only Gilbert, kind-eyed and not-human, holding out Murphy’s scarf like a peace offering.

Murphy does not take it.

“Did Gadling send you?” he asks, wary.

“Robert informed me what had transpired between you two.” Gilbert admits. “But rest assured, I am here on nobody’s behalf but my own - and, well, yours. Frightfully nippy tonight, wouldn’t you say?”

Murphy does not say. He trusts Gil as little as Hob, perhaps even less. A dream attempting to betray the memory of his master seems hardly like a paragon of virtue, and is perhaps even more suspicious than a deceitful human.

(He does, however, take the scarf now. It’s too cold to be stubborn, and when he winds it around his neck, it smells of sunshine on a summer meadow, warm and comforting.)

“And if you truly wish to leave… dear boy, I won’t stop you.” Murphy does not like the way Gilbert looks at him, as if trying to see someone else beneath his skin. He does not meet Murphy’s eyes, if he can help it. “In fact I would send you off with well-earned compensation for your time, and travel fare. Unless…”

Gil steps up to the parapet beside him.

“...unless I can convince you to stay…?”

“Why would you?” Murphy mutters, instead of why would I, if you’re offering to pay me off? “It should be perfectly obvious that I’ll never pass muster.”

“Ironically,” Gilbert smiles, but only at the man he pretends to see whenever he looks at Murphy, “it is well known among the former denizens of the Dreaming that His Lordship was often prone to very similar bouts of pessimism. I have faith in you, Murphy - and so does Robert Gadling. Please, do not leave. I rather doubt we will succeed without you.”

"You…" Murphy struggles with the words, the sentiment behind them lodging uncomfortably in his throat. "You have great respect, even love, for Dream of the Endless' memory. So why do you pretend? Why try to fool his siblings that I am him?"

For a moment, Gilbert seems ready to insist, as always, that Murphy is, or at least might be - but, to his credit, he does not play Murphy for a fool, in the end. Not this time. Not like Hob always, always does.

"You are quite correct. I loved His Lordship deeply, in a way that could never be understood by anyone but a dream and their creator." Gilbert sighs, his soft meadow-green eyes gazing far into the distance of better days, lined by old grief. "He made me to be the Heart of the Dreaming, and he was the Dreaming, so I knew his heart and self better than any other. The loss, when he… you cannot imagine it, young friend. I thought I would wither away and die. I thought that would be a mercy. To live as a dream in a universe that does not contain Dream of the Endless seemed entirely unthinkable, and to be quite frank, I did not think I would survive longer than a year at most in the Waking."

"I understand," says Murphy, quietly, and he does. He is no stranger to the feeling of being so untethered, only floating along with the end looming over him, death - not Death, no longer, the Endless have been cast from their domains - only biding its time.

(In the first year he can remember, Murphy did not think he would see another, either.)

"And yet, the year passed. And I lived." Gilbert smiles, faintly, taking off his glasses to polish them. "I suspect it was humanity which saved me, for all that they robbed me of my home and Lord, as well. I found… such joy, in this world. In my human form, wandering among them. Calling a few select individuals friends, even. Young Robert's companionship was a particular blessing, and I owe him more than he can ever know."

He sets the glasses back on his nose.

"Lord Morpheus is dead." Says Gilbert. Says it like fact, like something too absolute for the sort of dream-creature born of hypotheticals he is, like an unshakeable truth he has resigned himself to. His voice only barely breaks over the words. "And I shall grieve him for all the rest of my days… but I must live to mourn him. Life goes on, young friend, and we must all move along with it. And, well. I cannot speak for Robert's motivations, but the true reason why I have agreed to this mad scheme…"

Gilbert takes Murphy's freezing hands in his own. His fingertips are not lined quite right, they would not leave prints that look even remotely like those of a human - but aside from that, his grip is warm, avuncular, firm, reassuring.

"I fear that his siblings will not be able to live on without him." Gilbert confesses, quietly. "They are not made to accept change and move on from a loss as monumental as what humanity has wrought upon them. To have you… not him, not entirely, but perhaps enough… it is my most solemn hope that it might give them some form of closure at long last."

"So that's what it is?" Murphy laughs, bitterly. "Charitable concern for the well-being of personifications of abstract concepts!?"

"No." Gilbert corrects mildly. "Love. For my creator's family."

Murphy scoffs. His chest aches with it.

"What you, hmm. What you must understand, about Lord Morpheus…" Gilbert seems to be choosing his words very carefully. "...is that, for all that he was often harsh and commanding, he was so very loving, always. My Lord loved with all his self, even if he would attempt to turn a cold shoulder to the world - and I think you are much like him in temperament, young Murphy.”

Murphy does not acknowledge that. He doesn't think he can.

“He loved his family, and he loved the Dreaming, and all the beings in it. I was his heart, or near as, you must recall, I knew the truth at the core of him.

Memories or not, love as he did, and you will be a credit to his name, and a comfort to all who knew him."

(Murphy does not have it in himself to love like Dream of the Endless did. He already struggles to love at all.

But perhaps, for the sake of the entity whose memory he will dishonour, he can try.)

“So. Will you come back and resume your lessons?” Gil asks, very gently. “You may leave, now or any other time, of course you may. But it would be to your benefit, as well as to that of many others, if you did not.”

“I’ll stay,” Murphy forces out. He could blame the way his hands shake on the cold. “For now.”

“Thank you, dear child. Thank you.” This time, when Gilbert smiles, it very nearly feels like it is directed at him, after all. “Now, let’s get you out of this cold, hm? And Matthew as well.”

Murphy lets Gilbert herd him back to their inn, sits through Hob Gadling’s apology and wonders if it was sincere - he can never tell, with this infuriating man - and continues to learn as much as possible about the life of Dream of the Endless.

But he’s slowly realising, if anything will convince the Endless siblings, then it certainly won’t be the trivia. He’ll have to learn to love like the Lord of Stories, for their deception to have a snowflake’s chance in hell.

(Oh, wonderful. As if this wasn’t difficult enough already…)

#WyWrites #dreamling #the sandman #anastasia dreamling au #thank you for the ask and sorry it took so long! #maybe at some point i'll go back and also write hob successfully recruiting murphy #but i was a little stuck on that so i skipped the recruitment and wrote this instead #fiddler's green's role in this au is just very interesting to dig into #deception and manipulation is not in his nature and the closest he gets to selfishness is just wanting to live a human life #so why would he agree to help hob with this scheme? #i'm quite pleased with the way i spun it - he really does it out of love and thinks it's ultimately for a good cause #and subconsciously the assurance that gil is doing it out of loyalty rather than as betrayal is very (suspiciously) important to murphy #also very light 1889 meeting parallels with hob and murphy's fight at the start!

[descendant-of-evil]

Under Her Shadow| Gil LeGume

Pairing: Platonic!Gil x Mal's Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1,667

Trigger warning: this story contains themes of emotional neglect and family dysfunction.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing a one-shot, so please don't be too harsh on me...

Summary: Basically it's a sad & lonely-reader meeting and befriending the ball-of-sunshine that is Gil LeGume...

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

You stand in a secluded alley on the Isle of the Lost, watching as Mal and her friends wreak havoc on the poor inhabitants of this forsaken place. You are Mal's younger sister, but it often feels like you don't even exist to your own mother, Maleficent, who openly favors Mal over you, always praising her older daughter's every move and putting her on a pedestal. Meanwhile, you are left in the shadows, feeling invisible and unwanted.

You watch as Mal struts around with her new friends, Jay, Evie, and Carlos. They are now the most infamous gang of Vks on the İsle, known as the "Core Four", and Mal is the leader. They’ve been inseparable since going on that crazy quest (that you weren’t part of) to retrieve Maleficent’s scepter: The Dragon’s Eye.

As you see them all laughing and joking together, a bitter wave of loneliness washes over you (despite knowing that deep down, you'll never fit in with them, no matter how hard you try). You have no one to talk to, no one to confide in, and no one to call a friend.

You try to approach Mal, to see if she'll pay any attention to you, but she brushes you off with a wave of her hand. She's too busy with her new friends, and you're just an afterthought. As the day wears on, you find yourself feeling more and more isolated. You watch as Mal and her friends plan their next scheme, and you know you'll never be a part of it.

Eventually, you decide to wander off on your own. You find yourself in the docks, sitting on a barrel, feeling sorry for yourself. You can't help but wonder why your mother doesn't love you as much as she loves Mal. What did you do wrong?

As you sit there, lost in your thoughts, a shadow falls over you. You look up to see a boy standing in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest. It's Gil LeGume, son of Gaston.

"What are you doing here all alone?" he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.

You shrug your shoulders, not really knowing how to answer.

"Are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face.

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill over. "No," you whisper.

Gil sits down beside you, and you're surprised at how comfortable you feel around him. You've always been too disgusted by Gaston and his sons to talk to them, but Gil seems different.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice soft.

Trusting your instincts, you take a deep breath and tell him everything. About how Maleficent favors Mal over you, about how you feel invisible and unwanted. About how you're always left out and never included.

Gil listens intently, his eyes never leaving yours. When you're finished, he puts his arm around you, and you lean into him. It's the first time in a long time that you've felt comforted.

"You know," Gil says, "Blood-Family isn't everything. You don't need the approval of your mother to be happy."

You look up at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, that you shouldn't have to strive to be like Mal, for Maleficent’s approval. You don't have to follow in her footsteps. You can be your own person, and make your own choices. You can do whatever you want and be whomever you want to be… That’s what İ did and İ’ve never been happier."

You nod, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in a long time. Maybe he's right. Maybe you don't have to be in Mal's shadow forever.

Gil stands up, pulling you to your feet with him. "Come on," he says, "Let's go to Ursula’s Fish and Chips, I heard that the fries are on discount today."

You smile, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders. Maybe today isn't so bad after all. And maybe, just maybe, you'll find your own place in the world, away from Mal's shadow.

As you and Gil walk through the Isle of the Lost, you start to see things in a different light. You notice people and places that you've never seen before, and you begin to realize that there's a whole world outside of Mal's group.

You and Gil sit on a bench, eating your chips and talking about everything and nothing. You tell him about your favorite things, like reading and drawing, and he tells you about his love for pirating and sports.

It's the first time in a long time that you've had a real conversation with someone, and you realize how much you've been missing out on.

When the sun starts to set, Gil walks you back to your home. You thank him for spending time with you, and he gives you a smile that makes your heart flutter.

As you walk into your house, you're surprised to see Maleficent waiting for you. She looks angry, and you feel a pang of fear in your chest.

"Where have you been, Y/N?" she demands, her eyes narrowed.

"I was just out," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Out where?" she snaps.

"Just around," you say, feeling a knot form in your stomach.

Maleficent glares at you for a few more seconds before storming off, leaving you standing there, feeling small and insignificant.

You walk up to your room, closing the door behind you. You sit on your bed, staring at the wall, feeling tears sting your eyes. You thought maybe things were going to change, but now you feel like you're right back where you started.

As the night wears on, you can hear Mal and her friends laughing and having fun outside your window. You try to ignore them, but their voices carry, taunting you with their happiness.

You pull your blanket up around your shoulders, feeling alone and forgotten. You try to remind yourself of what Gil said earlier, that you don't need to be like Mal or her friends, that you can make your own choices.

But it's hard to believe that when you feel so unloved and unwanted.

Eventually, you fall asleep, but your dreams are plagued with visions of Mal and Maleficent, both of them looking down on you with disdain.

When you wake up in the morning, you feel drained and exhausted. You don't want to face another day of feeling like you don't belong.

But then you remember Gil's words, and you decide to try to take his advice. You grab a notebook and start to write, letting your imagination run wild.

As the day wears on, you find yourself getting lost in your poetry, forgetting about the world outside your bedroom window.

You're surprised when you hear a knock on the balcony of your window. You look up to see Gil standing there, a shy smile on his face.

"Hey," he says, "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out again today?"

You smile, feeling warmth in your chest. Maybe things are starting to change after all.

Together, you and Gil explore the Isle of the Lost, discovering new places and things to do. You feel like you're finally starting to find your own place in the world, as your own person.

As the sun starts to set, you and Gil sit on a rooftop overlooking the Isle of the Lost. You talk about everything and nothing, and you realize how much you've come to value his friendship.

"You know," Gil says, "You're pretty fun to hang out with."

You laugh, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Thanks," you say, feeling a happiness that you haven't felt in a long time.

As the night wears on, you and Gil walk back to your house. You say goodnight, feeling a sense of contentment that you haven't felt in a long time.

But as soon as you open the door to your house, that sense of contentment disappears. Maleficent is waiting for you, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

"Where have you been, this time?" she demands.

You feel a knot form in your stomach as you try to come up with an answer. "Out with a friend," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Maleficent glares at you, her eyes narrowing. "Out with a friend? Fool! Villains don't have friends, only allies… Your sister is a leader with three minions, why can’t you be more like her?" she says, her voice dripping with disdain.

You feel tears sting your eyes as you realize that nothing has changed. Maleficent still sees you as inferior to Mal, and nothing you do can change that.

But then you remember Gil's words, and you find a newfound strength inside of you. You stand up straighter, looking Maleficent in the eye.

"I'm my own person," you say, your voice steady. "I don't need to be like Mal to be happy."

Maleficent's expression softens for a moment, but then it hardens again. "You'll never be as good as Mal," she says, her voice cold.

You feel a sense of defeat wash over you as Maleficent walks away, leaving you standing there, alone and forgotten once again.

But then you remember the happiness you felt with Gil, and you realize that you don't need Maleficent's approval to be happy. You have your own interests and your own passions, and you don't need to live in Mal's shadow anymore.

From that moment on, you start to embrace your own identity. You spend most of your time with Gil, exploring the Isle of the Lost and discovering new things. You draw and read and write, finding joy in the things that make you unique.

And even though Maleficent still sees you as inferior to Mal, you now know that you don't need her approval to be happy. You have your own place in the world, away from Mal's shadow, and you've finally embraced the fact that you don't need to be anyone but yourself to be happy…

#descendants #disney descendants #descendants x reader #gil legume #the isle of the lost #gil x reader #descendants fandom #descendants fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #sister reader #maleficent #oneshot #imagine

[queen-dahlia]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭

ღ 𝗠𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝟭 & 𝟮 ღ 𝗦𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗘𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 ღ 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗶𝘂𝗺 𝗘𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 ღ 𝗘𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲 ღ

🔞🔞🔞

Note: Translation is not 100% accurate. Expect grammatical errors.

// : alternate translation | ⫘⫘ : flashback

The nickname "Gil" used to be familiar to me.

The name, which my brother and mother called me frequently, had a special warmth to it, and I liked it even as a child.

But the family that calls me "Gil" is no longer in this world.

For a time, I forced a boy I picked up in Rhodolite to call me "Gil," but as he grew older, he seldom called me that anymore.

(I thought that no one would ever again show up to call the trampling beast by his nickname.)

(Because that was "proof of family" to me.)

Emma: "Gil…"

And yet, Emma, who has become my official fiancée, calls me.

There is some awkwardness, but I haven't heard "Gil" in a long time,

It was filled with such happiness that my brain felt as if it were about to be enraptured.

(Oh man... it's like I'm not me anymore when Emma calls me "Gil.")

The disaster of the world, the trampling beast—that's how the man who has terrorized people all over the continent has been,

Just being called by a nickname on the bed is enough to make me want to bury my face in my pillow, and I am in so much agony.

As expected, I couldn't do that, so I just kept Emma's lips closed.

Gilbert: "Can you call me more?"

Emma: "… It's hard to say when prompted."

Gilbert: "Then I'll let you call it natural."

(It's your fault for providing happiness to the villain, isn't it?)

I push Emma down onto the sheets and bite down on the skin peeking through her jet-black dress.

I purposely avoided kissing her lips so that she could call me by name at any time, and I slowly made more bite marks.

(... I have time today, and I won't make you feel better right away.)

I lapped at the bite marks with my tongue while also avoiding the places where Emma's body was pleasurable for her.

Emma: "Ahh, Gilbert—"

Gilbert: "No, right?"   //   "Isn't that right?"

(You're the one who wanted to get to know me better.)

Emma: "… It's hard to do that without thought."

Emma: "… I'm embarrassed."

Gilbert: "Then let's practice until you get used to it."

Gilbert: "Look, I'll make love to you all night long, just like you want."

Emma: "... I don't want—"

Gilbert: "No?"

Emma: ". . . . . ."

(I love that you're not too shy to deny it then, Emma.)

Gilbert: "I'll make you feel good every time you can call me right. But if you can't do that—"

I lightly pressed her breasts against the top of her black dress.

I tried tickling her repeatedly, but everything seemed to be blocked by the dress, and Emma began to sway her body in frustration.

Gilbert: "Shall we do this forever?"

Emma: "……… Gil."

(She can't take it. ...Hehe, I'm going to hear a lot of names today.)

As promised, I pull down the dress and bite down hard on the swollen spot where she wants me to touch her.

══════════════════

As we repeated such games, I noticed that the sky was changing color—

Gilbert: "... The night went by pretty fast, huh?"

(I got carried away too.)

I remove my eye patch and look down at Emma, who is lying face down helplessly in the dimness with no lights on.

The sheets were so stained that it was a good thing I had taken off her dress during the day.

(I've just been biting and fondling her body for a long time, and it's turned out like this.)

Teasing her, making her feel good... The body that obediently received them was already twitching.   //   I have been teasing her and making her feel good… Her body has been twitching since a few minutes ago, when she received them with open arms.

A quick stroke between her legs, and Emma screamed and jumped up.

Emma: "Ahhh... Gilbert..."

(… You're so stiff.)

Gilbert: "I'm not going to stop you like that, okay?"

Emma: "Gil…"

Gilbert: "Even if you call me to make up for it, I won't stop." **

(How many times are we going to repeat the same mistake? You're not getting used to it at all.)

I hug Emma from behind as she gets up and put my hands around her waist to prevent her from escaping.

Tears trickled down from the corners of Emma's eyes as I churned the surface between her legs while she deliberately made noises.

Gilbert: "Don't cry."

Emma: "Nnhh… I can't take it anymore…"

Emma: "Everywhere you touched me was... weird..."

Gilbert: "Hmm."

Emma: "Aahh... Ahh..."

I stick my finger in and start stirring again. **

I stirred the hot, tender spot until it almost burned me, but I stopped when I heard Emma's charming voice.

Gilbert: "I'm going to stop being mean to you when the awkwardness goes away from you."

Emma: "Gil…"

Gilbert: "That's not even close to a passing grade, because it's like, "I'm just trying to say it," right?"

Emma: "… It's tough."

Gilbert: "I'm in a good mood, too. I'll make you stop using honorifics one of these days, okay?"

(I'm royalty, but I don't want you to be the only one to see me that way.)

Emma: "… I'm getting… used to it."

Gilbert: "You can call me Gil in public, too, if you want."

Emma: "… No."

Gilbert: "No?"

Emma: "No, I can't."

(I was told more clearly than I expected. I'm a little disappointed.)

I sighed blandly, and Emma huffed as she turned her head to look at me.

Emma: "Gilber—Gil, I don't want anyone to see that relaxed face of yours."

(Relaxed face...?)

(. . . . . .)

(… I think I might be doing that. It's true that I'm getting carried away.)

Even without looking in the mirror, it was easy to imagine that I looked far from a trampling beast.

Emma: "I guess you've transferred your... jealousy to me too."

Emma's languid but happy smile blew my nasty feelings away.

Gilbert: "Hehe, not as good as I am."

Gilbert: "I need you to be jealous enough to make me want to kill everyone around me."

Emma: "… If I were to be treated with that kind of jealousy, the country would be destroyed."

Gilbert: "But we can really be alone together, right?"

Emma: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "Ahaha, I'm kidding."

Gilbert: "... For now."

Emma: "Please keep the jokes coming."

Gilbert: "I suppose it's up to you."

We laugh at each other, and then our lips meet, signaling an unconsciously close gaze.

It had been a long time since I had kissed her on the mouth, even though we had been flirting for a long time.

(I'm at my limit too, so I'll let it end here for today.)

(… I got her to call me Gil 49 times, so I guess that's good enough.)

I make Emma, who is dazed from the aftermath of the kiss, sit on my lap so that she is facing me, and I penetrate her body.

I was about to be taken away from the consciousness that I had been enduring all this time.

(But Emma seems to have less time to spare.)

Tears fall from the corners of Emma's eyes again as I rock her slender hips.

Emma: "Nnn… Ahhh… Gil..."

Gilbert: "Hehe... for the fiftieth time."

Emma: "Haahh… What..."

Gilbert: "It's nothing."

When I embrace Emma, I am enveloped by the sweet scent that is unique to the night.

She clung to my shoulders tightly and strongly, and I felt her fingernails digging into me through my shirt.

(Emma… I've lost everyone who called me "Gil" once.)

(But you're the only one who won't lose no matter what you do.)   //   (But you are the only one I won't lose by any means.)

I bind you with fetters in the name of engagement, and I wrap you with chains in the name of love.

I will keep you in my arms, and don't let you leave me forever.

The engagement ceremony and the obsidian rose ring, the only one worn by a naked Emma, are all part of it.

(… However, there were some miscalculations.)

(It was supposed to be an engagement ceremony for me to tie you up...)

(Every time you call my name, I feel like I'm more tied to you than you are to me.)

(I wonder which one of us is bound...?)

#サイバード #イケメン王子 #ギルベルト=フォン=オブシディアン #ikemen prince #ikemen prince gilbert von obsidian #ikemen prince gilbert #ikeprince #ikeprince gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince jp #ikepri jp #ikeprince translation #ikemen prince spoilers #ikeprince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #dahlia's bad translation

[drabblesandimagines]

400 request! Could you do some thing like enemies to lovers with Cid, maybe an argument that leads to an angry kiss. With some spice at the end?

Thankyou!

Thanks for the 400 request, anon! Sorry it took me an absolute age to get round to it - I'm still working my way through a few. I didn't quite get enemies to lovers but there's some argumentative banter and a tiiiiny bit of spice towards the end - please let me know what you think in an anon ask xxx Sparks Cidolfus Telemon x female reader Fluffy, little sprinkling of spice towards the end

You start to look up at the sound of the bell tinkling over the door, announcing a customer, but the heavy boots on the wooden floorboards tell you all you need to know and you sigh, casting your eyes immediately back down when you see who it is darkening your doorstep.

“No.”

“Love, that’s not a nice greeting. Want to try again?”

“Cidolfus-” “Oh, I am in trouble.” He smirks. “Now, this is a nice one.” You hear him heave a pot up in his hands, “how much?"

You look up then – he’s admiring the ceramic with a fake interest. “Not for sale.” You pinch the bridge of your nose to try and relieve the tension as he places the pot down.  “I have a headache that could down a behemoth and I cannot deal with that and you today.”

“Then,” the approaching footsteps show he has not heeded your plea, “you should let me help you.”

“Help?” You scoff. “You always bring more trouble to my door. If the Imperials or Dragoons get word of you being here…”

“They’ll what – poke and prod me with their little halberds?” He pretends to pout. “I don’t fear them and, if someone would finally accept my very gracious offer, neither would you.”

“Leave.” You seethe. “You’re nothing but a hinderance these days.”

“Surely it’s the thought that counts.” He chuckles, laying both palms down on the desk to show he had no plans to leave. “Besides, if you would concede, Tarja could whip you off something for that headache too, quick as you like.”

“By the Mothers. I swear-“

“This isn’t a very viable way to run a business, love – chasing your customers away at the door.”

“You’re not a real customer.”

He shrugs, before lifting a hand off the counter and grabbing a gil pouch off his belt. He drops it in show, the bag giving a satisfying thunk as it hit the counter to show off its contents.

“I’ll take however much this will get me.”

“You won’t. I hold the right to refuse you service.” You stress, shoving the pouch back across to him.

“You’re such a funny shopkeeper, someone might get ideas you’re up to something else here.”

You sigh, meeting his eyes at last. He’s a handsome man and he knows it – part of what makes him so cocky. “What will it take for you to leave me be?”

He throws his arms wide. “Come join my group of outlaws.”

“I’m doing fine work here.” You grumble. Your paths had crossed a few years back. He’d heard word of someone shipping ailing Bearers out to the Kingdom of Waloed – something he could not stand, given his history. His investigations had led straight to you – ushering them onto a boat in a way that wasn’t befitting on a slave master. After a tense exchange, it had been established that the two of you were of the same opinion – that Bearers didn’t deserve the hand they had been dealt and were trying to help where you can in different ways. You’d buy up Bearers where you could and, under the guise of selling them to Waloed, you’d find them havens throughout Valisthea, allowing them to live their final days in peace, for whatever it was worth.

He was smug, cocky, thought he was the Mother’s gift to all around him, and it drove you up the wall – like he expected you to swoon over him and his swagger, go along with whatever he wanted. But no, you’d stayed firm, held your resolve – Cidolfus Telemon will not get his way with you.

“What if I say I’m worried?”

“About yourself? You should be. I heard a certain rumour about an unwanted visitor to Drake’s Head.”

He quirks an eyebrow, looks surprised for a moment before his face falls back into its self-assured grin. “I just wanted a closer look, love.”

The bell above the door rings again and a real customer walks in – a nobleman, by the looks of it, with real gil to burn.

You look at Cid and nod your head towards the door. Thankfully, he relents, giving you a wink and a wave and finally heads out the door.

--

Later that evening, you’re about to lock up when a hand squeezes your shoulder. You turn, alarmed, and find yourself facing a trio of Imperial soldiers – all sporting the same haircut under military standards, the same hardened stares.

“I’m awfully sorry, but I’m closed for the day, sirs. Mayhaps you can return in the morning.” You keep your tone light, almost ditsy to try and diffuse what is clearly not a group of soldiers out shopping for pots.

“I’m afraid this matter really cannot wait, my lady.” The soldier reaches past you and opens the door into the shop before pushing you back within. “After you.”

You make it five steps in when you hear a sword being unsheathed and an almighty clatter as it collides with a group of pots on display.

“Oops.” The soldier says, dryly.

“Accidents happen.” This isn’t good – whatever this is.

“They do.”  We wouldn’t want any more happening, would we?”

“No, sir.”

“Like, it must have been an accident when Cidolfus Telemon was here this afternoon and you did not bring it to our attention.”

“Who?” You tilt your head, trying to mimic confusion. The soldier, the commander of this merry trio, you reckon, grabs you by your jaw, squeezing your cheeks.

“Don’t play dumb, my lady. You’ll only make this worse for yourself. What business did you conduct with him?”

“None.” He lets go of your jaw and shoves you backwards, sending you crashing into another display of pots. Jagged bits of ceramic poke at your back and thighs, but that pain is nothing to the fear you feel when he draws his sword.

“Ladies should not lie.”

“And that is no way to treat a lady, lads.” Cid’s smooth voice comes from the doorway. The soldiers spin on their heels, holding their swords aloft. He steps in, casually, rolling up his sleeves.

“Surrender, Telemon.”

Sparks of lightning begin to crackle along his arm and into his palm. “Not my style.” And before the soldiers can make another move, he punches his fist into the ground, sending three strikes of lightning in each of their directions, sending the trio flying up for a moment before crashing down into more of your pots - dead.

You stare in disbelief of what’s just occurred, your heart pounding as Cid strides over to you, pulling you up to your feet.

“Are you all right?”

“You.” You growl, grabbing hold of either side of his collar with both hands and yanking him forward. “I told you that you’re nothing but trouble.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Love, I’m sorry, that wasn’t meant to happen-“ You cut him off with a bruising kiss and for a moment he doesn’t reciprocate, stunned, before he drops his hands and slides his tongue in between your lips, fighting for dominance. His hands find your waist and he pulls you closer, one hand dropping down to squeeze your backside. You can feel him smirk into the kiss, but that won’t do. You let go of his collar, trailing your fingers down his chest and then lower, ghosting his crotch, causing him to moan into your mouth…

“We gotta go, Cid – more Imperials heading this way!” A voice comes from the door – one you recognize as another part of his crew.

He pulls away, frowning. “We’ll have to continue this back at my place, love. Come on.” And with no hesitation, his hands are back at your waist and the smug bastard throws you over your shoulder, patting your backside as he adjusts his grip.

“Cidolfus!” --

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #cid telemon x reader #cidolfus telamon #cidolfus telemon x you #ffxvi x reader

[doodle-pops]

.𑁍༊˚Princess Treatment.𑁍༊˚

Headcanons: Amrod, Argon, Angrod, Egalmoth, Gwindor, Thingol, Gil Galad

Synopsis: In which your lover gives you the princess treatment.

.𑁍༊˚Amrod

From the minute you and Amrod started courting, you have always been given the princess treatment, “Anything for my darling.” And he means it. He’ll fight his brothers should any of them make the slightest little jest at you.

His princess treatment you get to see displayed a lot more whenever you join him on hunting trips. Holding a hand out to hoist you onto your horse or take you off, acting as your footstool, giving you his cloak—doesn’t matter if you’re cold or not.

During target practice, he’ll give you kisses whenever you hit the target board, even if it’s not a bullseye. But when it is, he’ll spin you around and give you kisses all over your face.

Sometimes when you’re lacing up your boots, he’ll come over and push your hands away gently to lace them up. When he’s finished, a kiss on your hand and cheek. During those moments, his brothers would tease him but usually pays no mind.

Since he is into woodcarving, expect lots of ornaments and miniature statues of you to be carved. You’ll receive a box with a woodwork of your portrait signed by Amrod with a little note.

.𑁍༊˚Argon

Argon always blushes endlessly whenever he’s displaying the princess's treatment. From pulling out chairs, opening doors, crossing you over puddles or picking you up bridal style whenever you’ve gonna tired of walking, Argon blushed all the time.

Of course, he can be cheeky and steal kisses from you when you least expect it. His responses are always along the line of, “My baby deserves all the kisses in the world, have another,” while leaning in to steal/give another.

Flowers and small trinkets anytime you both step out for dates or simply for a walk. There are times when he’ll forget to bring you flowers, but you can bet that he’ll stop to pluck some wildflowers to make up for the accident.

He loves to get lost in your eyes which leads him to compliment you a million times and shower you with more kisses and affection which means PDA. Cheeky youngling, he’ll sneak a ton of kisses to you while walking around in public and give you pinches and pats to your butt as well (return the favour).

Argon might not be the best cook out of his siblings, but if you’re craving something to eat, you can bet he’s trying his damn hardest to perfect it. You have him so whipped that he’’ pester his brothers to teach him how to cook just to surprise you.

.𑁍༊˚Angrod

He’s silent the entire time he has to do anything for you but know that he’s coming to your beck and call whenever you need him. Nothing is ever an issue. He’ll even tell everyone not to bother him while he’s spending time with you.

Heck, if you require a foot massage or body rub, he’s there with the flowers and scented candles and aromatic oils to aid your relaxation. It’s an adorable sight because the entire time he appears displeased but it’s him being focused.

If you’re shopping together, Angrod would silently hold your bags and walk at your side obediently. Compliments rattle off his tongue accompanied by brilliant smiles.

To not express his love and appreciation for you through his actions and compliments is an insult to your existence. He’ll even write you love letters, after making a quick stop by his older brother and gift you a promise ring.

Angrod comes off like your personal bodyguard from the way he acts and moves around you. Holding out his arm to wait or guide you around. “As you wish, my love,” is his favourite line to respond with.

.𑁍༊˚Egalmoth

Whatever his sweetheart requests, Egalmoth gets it for you, without complaining. A gentleman at heart with a bit of naughtiness.

Giving you small pats that turn into slaps to your butt or cheeky pinches while making remarks about how your butt looks fine today. Commissions clothing wear to fit your body and accentuate your figure.

Holds out a door, a chair, and his arm, and carries you across puddles bridal or piggyback style. Even if nothing is wrong with your legs, he’s offering to carry you around the city.

Sometimes during training, he’ll request for you to join him so he can demonstrate the proper forms which is a lame excuse just to be close. You’ll feel his hands sneaking to pinch your butt and give it pats. Other times, he’ll make an excuse to come over, just so he can give you kisses.

Flowers and jewellery as your primary gifts (and a promise ring was given). Don’t worry, should you request simpler items, he’ll bend the knee and give his baby. He once bothered Penlod to assist him with writing his feelings into a love letter.

.𑁍༊˚Gwindor (pre!angband)

As a Lord of his house, Gwindor has access to many riches and loves to constantly shower you with an assortment of gifts. From jewellery to clothes to floral arrangements, even fancy dinners and picnics or a spa day.

He always makes time for you and would come running over the instant he hears his name being called. Even if he’s busy exploring caves and nature, he’ll drop and rush to his knees.

In his earlier days when you started courting, he was a bit clumsy due to his lovestruck phase and would rush to fall to his knees all to assist you with your horse. One hand out, he let you stand on his thigh to get on your horse.

Not one for being cheeky like the others, but he’ll gladly sneak a few kisses here and there in public when no one was looking. Small and curt pecks to your cheek and lips before he takes the moment to fondly look into your eyes and whisper, ‘I love you’.

While shopping isn’t a huge thing in Nargothrond, Gwindor would happily walk around the streets holding any of your goods without complaining and with a smile on his face. If you attempt to hold something, he’ll pry it from your hands and carry it.

.𑁍༊˚Thingol

From sunrise to sunset, Thingol will spoil you endlessly. Fresh fruits are served on a silver platter each morning for breakfast, the finest wine your lips deserve tasting, and the most delicious meals you can be served.

From head to toe, you will be dropped in jewellery, and even your garment will be embroidered with jewellery as well. You might complain about the weight, but in Thingol's mind, if you aren't shining like a star then there's room for more.

He'll treat you on walks whenever you insist and even cater an entire flower garden just for you. It is probably one of your gifts, having an entire private garden for you alone. He's aware that you crave privacy.

Knowing that his legs are extremely long, he'll make the effort to slow down on walks or carry you around in his arms. No, you aren't spared from his whining about you having two legs of your own. He just loves complaining.

On rare occasions, you might receive a love letter which was attached to some extravagant gift on your bed and flowers. One of your gifts from him will definitely be a promise ring or some necklace that screams 'taken, I'm Thingol's lover'.

.𑁍༊˚Gil Galad

He's a lot more relaxed and ready to seduce you into his arms. You can expect Gil Galad to always be kissing the back of your hand and making eye contact upon every greeting (he'll even give playful spanks to your butt). He just loves kissing you, believing that you are deserving of always being showered in his love.

Rescheduling meetings all because you asked if he was free the next day. He doesn't care that the meeting was of great importance. If you requested his presence, he was going to be there.

He's always seen walking around you with a love-sick look on his face as he holds doors open, helps you cross puddles or carry you over them, and pulls out your chair. Has no problem being a footstool to assist you on your horse.

You are spoiled endlessly and he always wants to see you smiling even if your request might be weird, he'll bend his knee and commit. Like the others, he quicker gifts you a circlet that signifies you are a part of his house. A ring will follow soon.

Another thing he does with pride is praising you endlessly. He could be talking with delegates and he'll make a random comment about how amazing you were at court or how eloquent your speech is. He takes pride in praising you all the time.

Masterlist | Underrated Character Event Masterlist |

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @wisheduponastar @stormchaser819 @ilu-stripes @floragardeniahope @roselovesong

#underratedcharacterevent #amrod x reader #argon x reader #angrod x reader #egalmoth x reader #gwindor x reader #thingol x reader #gil galad x reader #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion headcanons #silmarillion fluff #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth headcanons #amrod headcanon #argon headcanon #angrod headcanon #egalmoth heacanon #gwindor headcanon #thingol headcanon #gil galad headcanon #house of feanor #house of fingolfin #house of finarfin #lords of gondolin #x reader fluff #x reader insert #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[glassofspoiledmilk]

New years kiss

Synopsis: Victor nikiforov throws a New Year’s party, and your friend Yuri plisetsky is having girl problems.

WC: 1.8k

“Alright what do we think about..this one!” I say as I spin around, holding a dress by the hanger in front of my body.

“Hmmm..I don’t know..maybe try that silver one behind you” Mila advises.

Today was the day of victors party, and this being my first year in the senior division, it was my first time being invited.

“You know that the party really isn’t all that right? It’s just a bunch of drunk people playing cards against humanity and dancing” she adds as you turn around to put the dress back.

“I know but it’s my first time going and I don’t wanna look lame” I reply, the sound of clashing hangers echoing in my closet.

“Orrr is the real reason you wanna look good because Yuris gonna be there” Mila teased.

“Ughh are you kidding me he’s gonna be there too!” I say as I whip my head around to look back at her.

“Well yea it’s for all the seniors sooo” she adds.

I groan and turn around to reveal the dress.

“How does it look?” I ask.

“It looks perfect….for Yuri” she laughs.

“Cmon Mila you know how I feel about him! He’s arrogant and rude and I do not like him” I scold, my cheeks burning red in embarrassment.

“Yea I’m sure you feel veeeery stronglyyy about him” Mila adds as she continues laughing.

“Ugh I hate you” I say as I roll my eyes.

“Love you too!” She winks.

“So are we going with this one?” I ask with a huff.

“Yup!”

“Mila are you sure I look ok?” I say as I walk out of the bathroom.

I had on the silver dress we picked out earlier, and a matching pair of heels. My hair was pulled back and my makeup was done with iridescent eyeshadow and pounds of glitter.

“You look gorgeous, don’t worry” Mila says as she tosses on a fur coat.

“Now cmon, we’re gonna be late” she adds, opening the door.

I grab a black coat off the rack and follow her out of the door.

The air was freezing when we stepped outside, I shivered as Mila unlocked the car. I climbed into the passengers seat turned on the heater.

“I’m kinda nervous” I blurt out as we started moving.

“Whaaat? Don’t be, I’m sure Yuri will dance with you” she jokes.

“Cmon Mila im behind serious, I hate him” I say, unamused.

“You say that but then whenever the two of you are together you’re all buddy buddy” she adds, pulling up to a stop sign.

“Ugh you are so annoying” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“But in all seriousness there’s nothing to be nervous about, like I said it’s just a bunch of drunk people doing weird shit” Mila says with a laugh.

“Yea I guess you’re right” I add as I pull out my phone.

Around 20 minutes later Mila and I arrived at Victors house.

“Hey you guys made it!” He says, opening the door with a glass of champagne in his hand.

Me and Mila step Inside and she is immediately pulled aside by georgi, who is obviously drunk, complaining about his ex.

“Mila she posted on her instagram, she got a new boyfriend…hic…I’m going to go beat him up…” he slurs.

“Ok yea let’s not do that..” she says, grabbing a red plastic cup out of his hand.

“Um I’ll be right back I’m gonna go handle this..” Mila adds, looking back at me.

“Mila please don’t leave me I have no idea what I’m doing” I say awkwardly.

“You’ll be fine, I’ll be gone for like a few minutes” she replied.

“Let’s go Georgi” she adds, placing a hand in his shoulder.

She leads him into the kitchen and then completely out of my sight.

I decide to walk down the hallway and into victors living room.

The live countdown was on the TV and Victor, Chris, Yuuri, and Pitchit were all sitting on the couch playing cards against humanity.

Leo, Seung-Gil, and Guang-Hong were all standing in the corner loudly talking.

I leaned against the wall and huffed.

I was friends with none of the people here and the only person I knew was currently handling drunk Georgi.

I scan the room until I see Yuri standing against the opposing wall, talking to one of the girls in my division.

She was twirling her dark brown hair and she bitting her lip as she talked to him.

It infuriated me.

I waited until she left to go talk to him.

“Who’s that” I say, leaning on the wall next to Yuri.

He jumps at the sound of my voice.

“None of your business” he says, looking away from me.

“Jeez what’s your problem” I add.

He took a sip from whatever was in his plastic cup.

“Are you drinking??” I say in shock.

“No it’s water dipshit” he says as rudely as ever.

I scoff and roll my eyes.

“So again why were you talking to that girl” I persist.

“Since when do you care who I talk to?” He adds.

“Since now” I reply.

He lets out a loud sigh.

“She’s some girl from the US, she just came up to me and started talking” he says, taking another swig of water.

“She seems pretty into you” I reply with a twinge of jealousy.

“Well I’m not really that into her, she’s weird I don’t know why she keeps coming up to me” he adds.

“Oh shit I think she’s coming back” he says in a panic.

“Uhh we can go in the basement?i think I saw the door next to the stairs” I quickly suggest.

“Yea whatever just get me away from her”

I take a firm grasp on his hand and lead him down the hall to a white door.

I open it up and flick on the light.

Me and Yuri walked over to a corner and sat down on the carpet.

“I swear if I get caught in another conversation with her I think I might jump off the roof” he says dramatically.

I roll my eyes and laugh at his childish antics.

I never really got to have a good look at what Yuri was wearing. His hair was down and he was wearing a black button down and black dress pants.

As I examined his body I felt my face start heating up.

“Are you ok?” He asks.

“Oh yea I’m fine it’s just uh hot in here” I reply, embarrassed.

“So why did you decide to come?” I ask.

“I was bored, and Mila kept pestering me until I said yes” he said with an annoyed tone.

“She did the same to me, she asked me literally every day until I said yes” I laugh.

He lets out a slight laugh.

I open my phone to check the time and it’s roughly 11:50.

“Shit we gotta go back up” I say.

“No please I don’t wanna talk to that weirdo anymore” he whines.

“Just uh..say I’m your girlfriend” I blurt out.

His face flushes red.

“A-are you sure?” He stutters out.

“I mean it’ll for sure keep her away” I say awkwardly, realizing what I had just said.

“I guess it’s worth a shot”

I grabbed his hand again and we climbed back up the stairs to the main area.

Everyone was dancing, and the girl Yuri was talking to was leaning against the wall talking to Sara.

Me and Yuri walked to the center of the living room and started dancing.

I held both of his hands as I swayed along to the music.

“Hey Yuri~ who’s this?” The brunette girl said as she snuck up behind me.

I watched yuris face go white.

“It’s my girlfriend” he says as he removes his hands from mine.

She looks me up and down and gives me a nasty look.

“Hi, I’m Jessica” she says, forcing a fake smile on her face.

“Uh im Y/N” i add awkwardly.

“You know you’d be really pretty if you like..didn’t put on so much makeup. Guys don’t really like try hards..” she says with a snarky tone of voice.

“Well I don’t think my boyfriend has an issue with the amount of makeup I wear” I spat back at her.

“Hmph what a pity, I’m sure he’d like a more natural girl..like me” she says with a sarcastic smile.

“Well I guess I’ll leave you two to it..but I’ll be back” she adds as she winks and walks off.

Yuri shivers in discomfort.

“What a megabitch” i say angrily.

“Tell me about it” he replies with a scoff.

After the song ended, I watched the TV to see who was performing next.

A singer I didn’t know got up on stage and started singing “take my breath away”

All the couples started slow dancing with the song while I started awkwardly at Yuri.

We were both completely still, faces bright red.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the brunette girl making her way towards Yuri again.

I quickly wrap my arms around his neck and in response he gently wraps his hands around my waist.

I lean my head on his chest and whisper “she was walking over, go with it”.

We sway slowly to the music, starting to melt into each others touch.

In the middle of the song I look up at him, our faces almost touching.

He was so close I could feel the heat radiating off his face. His eyes were glistening as beautifuly as ever, and he smelled like expensive cologne.

His eyes were peering into mine, almost like he was about to kiss me.

“q-quit looking at me like that..” he stutters, quickly returning to reality.

His face was redder than ever as he turned to avoid my gaze.

“Shit sorry…I started zoneing out” I say as I return my head to its place on his chest.

As soon and my head hit the fabric, I felt him pull me closer and rest his head on mine.

My breath hitched at the sudden gesture.

Thank god he couldn’t see my face, it was as red as a tomato.

As the song slowly ended, I felt him lift off of me.

I felt an ache in my heart, like I didn’t want the moment to stop.

I removed my arms from around his neck as the TV reverted to the ball about to drop.

The countdown started.

60…

59..

“Y/N.. I need to talk to you about something” Yuri says as everyone chanted the numbers around us.

48..

47..

“Yea what’s up?” I reply as I look up at him.

39..

38..

“Promise me we’ll always be friends ok?” He says, his face red and his eyes glassy.

28..

27..

“Yea I promise..are you ok?” I reply concerned.

17..

18..

“I..uh” he stutters.

I felt my face heat up in anticipation.

9..

8..

Yuri looks away from me.

7..

6..

I watch as he takes a deep breath.

5..

4..

“Seriously Yuri what’s wrong, are you ok?”

3..

2..

And just as the clock strikes midnight he cups my face and pulls me into a kiss.

I feel time stop around me, all the screams and cheers were completely muffled as I melted into his touch.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned the kiss.

It was sweet and gentle, and I wish the moment could last forever.

I pulled away as he looked me in the eyes.

“I love you..I always have” he says out of breath, a lovesick look in his eyes.

“I love you too yurio” I add as I jump back into his arms.

“Happy new years” he replies as he places a quick kiss on the top of my head.

A/N: happy new years!! So sorry for slow updates, I’ve been really busy with schoolwork but I have the next chapter of going gold almost finished so be ready for that! Love you guys!!

#yuri on ice #x reader #yuri plisetsky x reader #figure skating #fluff imagine #oneshots #yurio plisetsky #grand prix #victuuri #wattpad #happy new year

[wandafiction]

Sounds Like A Date - Just Us Chapter 9

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1890

Series List | Chapter 8 | Chapter 10

================================

"Knock, knock." My sister's voice travels gently across the room, as she lets herself into my room. "Sorry to wake you, but you keep getting messages from an unknown number. They ask if you're still up for meeting today...."

"Today?" I shoot up from laying down and now sat facing my sister. "Pass me my phone please." 

She comes to sit next to me passing my phone off to me, I see a few notifications on my phone but specifically read the newest text.

Unknown: Are you okay? You're not replying? Please say this is your number. (10.43 a.m.)

"Shit." I groan as I unlock my phone to see the various messages I've received, scrolling back to the first one. 

Unknown: Hey Y/n! Just wanted to say I had an amazing time last night, and a lovely time this morning. Can't wait to see you again. (8.30 pm)

Unknown: Oh it's Wanda by the way. (8.31 pm)

Unknown: You made me feel so many things I haven't felt in a long time and some I've never felt before  (10.21pm)

Unknown: the gils say hellloooo. I ddnt tell them yhat mucj jusy that I splrt wit somon.  (10.53 pm)  (The girls say hello. I didn't tell them that much just that I slept with someone.)

I can only assume she was drunk at this point and I giggle to myself as I continue to read drunk texts from her that get harder and harder to understand as I go on. They range from telling me how sexy I am to a ramble about some friend drama. And then one text which is literally a bunch of letters.

Unknown: iralywnttocuagin (11.47 pm)

"What are you giggling at?" Carol peaks over my shoulder to read some of the messages. "Oh wow. Whoever it is is very drunk….she called you sexy? Oh my, is this a new girl?" 

"I don't know, we literally slept with each other Friday night, dropped her off Saturday late morning and then the panic attack happened. I can't believe I slept through the whole day and night." I rub my hands over my face as I continue reading the messages.

Unknown: Oh my god! I am so sorry about all the messages. I was completely out of it. (9.20 am)

Unknown: are you busy today? (9.30 am)

Unknown: is everything okay? You haven't messaged back at all? (9.50 am)

Unknown: I'm sorry that sounded rude. Just message me back. Please. (9.52 am)

Unknown: so Natasha has just informed me that I did indeed talk about our encounter on Friday night. Of course she is the only one who actually knows who you are.  (9.57 am)

Unknown: did I do something? Or are you regretting everything?  (10.13 am)

Unknown: I knew it was too good to be true (Message deleted) Unknown: you could have just said it was a one time thing for you instead of giving me your number. (Message deleted) Unknown: I'm more worried than frustrated. Are you okay? (10.34 am)

Shit! She thinks I'm ignoring her! But what do I tell her? I can't just be like 'hey, sorry I'm not ignoring you. I just had a fucking huge ass panic attack yesterday after getting home and have only just woken up.' No that would scare her away. She doesn't need to know about that.

"Can you help me message her so she doesn't get angry for the radio silence, but also doesn't run away?" I timidly ask my sister. Instead of replying she snatches my phone, types something in and passes it back. Oh god. I look down to see what she has said.

Y/n: Hey, I am so sorry. I got home and my sister surprised me with a surprise visit, and she made me turn my phone off so I could spend some 'quality' time with her. We stayed up way too late and I've only just woken up. (11.24 am)

Oh. That's not so bad. Carol places her hand on my back, rubbing it up and down for a few minutes while we sit in a comfortable silence.

"Thank you." It's the only thing I can say to her about yesterday and this morning.

"Always." She kisses my right temple, and I wince slightly. Okay why does that hurt, oh shit I hit my head as I went down. "Let's get that eye of yours sorted out, yeah?" 

"Is it bad?"

"Badass? Yeah!" We both laugh as she hoists me off the bed playfully shoving my back so I walk towards the bathroom. "But it does look like you lost the fight to the counter. It's a nice black eye though, you wear it well."

"Well I guess that's good." Ping. I turn to look at my phone and smile at the message I see.

Unknown: It's okay. I understand, siblings are important. I hope you're not too tired, I wondered if you wanted to meet today? 

~unknown~ changed to ~Wanda~

Y/n: I'm not too tired at all. What have you got planned?

I sit down on the stool in the bathroom, while Carol grabs a washcloth to give my face a clean. As she is wiping it she is looking down at me with those oh so caring eyes she has, maybe a little sadness, but also understanding. She smiles gently down at me as my eyes light up when another message comes through.

Wanda: Well I was thinking maybe going to a small café for a drink, some food. Then maybe go for a walk in the local park that's there, just talk and get to know one another. Then maybe head back to yours for a movie?

Wanda: or we could head to mine? Up to you really? So what do you say?

Y/n: sounds like you're asking me on a date? 

Wanda: What if I was? What would you say? 

Y/n: I would say, yes. Yes I like the idea of the date. Do you want me to pick you up from yours or meet at the café?

Wanda: Pick me up, please? 🥺

Y/n: Of course princess. What sort of time?

Wanda: In an hour? 

Y/n: I will see you then. I need to sort myself out so I will let you know when I'm leaving. 

Wanda: okay! See you soon! 

"A date? Huh." My sister's voice brings me back from looking at my phone, her curious gaze on mine.

"What?" I put my phone on the side, as I stand up to look at my face in the mirror. Well shit that's going to take a lot of makeup to hide.

"Nothing. Just proud of you." She brings my body into hers gently wrapping her arms around my body, even though I tower over her, she always gives the best hug.

"I'm proud of myself too." I rest my chin on the top of her head, slightly bending down to match her height better.

"How long has it been?" She looks up at me, so I move to stand up straight to look down at her from a more comfortable position. 

"I haven't had a date since Stephanie." She hums in response hugging me tighter at the mention of my ex's name. She pulls out of the embrace her hands on my cheeks gently rubbing them, avoiding my eye.

"Okay, well let me know how it goes. Also if this is going to go somewhere I want to meet her." I go to say something but she puts her hand in front of my face telling me to stop. "Not straight away, no. Maybe after month 1 or 2. You need to be sure this is what you want, and that it's going to work. If it is, well, then I will meet her. Only to make sure you don't find yourself in a situation you've you've in before. Okay?"

I'm not even going to argue, she is my older sister of course she is going to be over protective. "Okay."

"You listen hear….wait….Okay?" She seems surprised by my response, I mean I would normally try and make excuses. However, I know she won't let it go so why let this go on.

"Okay." I see her smile up at me.

"Okay then. Now do you need help with your makeup." She points a finger at my eye.

"Please." I say as I hand her the makeup bag, sitting on the counter next to the sink. I hardly wear makeup, but I have it for PR events and other business events.

It doesn't take long for Carol to do my makeup, making sure all of the blue and purple of my black eye is coveted nicely. She suggested wearing sunglasses, which only works if it's sunny; and it's not. It's currently overcast but the weatherman said there's no chance of rain, that's good at least.

"So it's a date?" Carol asks, when she comes to join me in the walk-in closet.

"That's what she said." I look around the clothes that are hanging up trying to decide what to wear.

"You slept with each other Friday, and are now going on a date today. Which for your information is Sunday." She turns her head to look up at me.

"Yeah why?" I ask as I pick out a pair of black skinny jeans holding them up against some tops.

"Nothing, just seems like you're both diving in head first." She brings over a plain white sweatshirt holding it against the jeans.

"Is that a bad thing? I mean people who online date, technically class their first meetings as a date right?" I place the sweatshirt and jeans on the island in the closet and head over to grab some shoes.

"No it's not a bad thing but it's like you missed steps 1 to 3 and skipped straight to sex and now are doing steps 1-3." She laughs as she brings over a light brown overcoat placing it on the island with the other clothes.

"Well isn't that how mom and dad met? A one night stand turned into 13 years of marriage." I raise an eyebrow in question as I turn to her, showing her some simple black vans in my hand.

"You're right, I know nothing." She laughs as she chucks me my clothes from the island.

"Exactly, you and Maria met in the air force, and you being the ever romantic person you are, took her on plenty of dates before actually doing the deed. Now look at you. Your married, you have Monica and that stupid ginger cat." Her eyes light up as I mention her wife and child, the biggest smile plastered on her face.

"You're right, I know nothing about one night stands, apart from mom and dad's story. Now get changed and go on your date before she thinks you stood her up." She gives me a pointed look as she leaves the walk-in. "Oh by the way, I'm staying for a couple of days. Want to catch up with people." She shouts behind the closing door...fun.

Y/n: Just putting on my shoes, leaving now.

Wanda: I will see you soon y/n.

Y/n: see you soon Wanda.

================================

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #just us series

[aquagirl1978]

Ahoy Aqua! I'm still thinking about that Gilbert and Son fic you wrote the other day and I was wondering if I could request wholesome family headcanons about having a water gun fight with Gilbert and your child as well as Chevalier and your child?

Oh, you mean the fic I posted like over a month ago - oh wait, you mean like a year ago? Sorry I'm so slow with requests 😂 You'll have to forgive me for tweeking your prompt. When I saw those cute lil cyberpunk chibis, and saw Gil with his giant bazooka I was reminded of this request that remained unanswered. A/N: You, as the reader, are alive and well but not present in this paint gun battle. It will become obvious why you are not there as you read along - think of this as a "choose your suitor" story. Disclaimer: I took some liberties in writing this - most notably with their choice of clothing and gameplay. Please do not play paintball without the proper gear and always follow the rules.

IKEMEN PRINCE HEADCANONS - WHOLESOME FAMILY PAINT GUN BATTLES (GILBERT, CHEVALIER)

Arrival at the Arena

The members of the von Obsidian family were frequent visitors at the paintball arena.

Today's outing was led by Gilbert, the proud papa, who was joined by his four children.

They arrived dressed for the occasion - head-to-toe black and red. The two eldest children dragged in what appeared to be a small armory - enough guns for each of them to have at least three and enough ammo to last all afternoon.

Gilbert was busy checking each gun before handing it off to a child as another family entered the space.

Chevalier Michel had never stepped foot into such a place before in his life. It was dark and dingy, and had his teenage son not begged him to come to this place, Chevalier would have been home, reading in his library.

He scowled as his son led him to the long counter - apparently this was where one obtained the equipment necessary to participate.

"Do you want to rent or purchase?" the clerk asked.

"Rent," Chevalier grumbled. There was no need to purchase something he would have no use for after today.

"Hey, Dad, do you know that man over there? He's waving at you."

His ice blue eyes glanced up, a loud sigh escaping his lips before closing his eyes momentarily.

Gilbert wasted no time approaching Chevalier when he ignored his wave. "Fancy seeing you here," Gilbert said with a smile. "Didn't anyone tell you not to wear white here?" he asked, poking Chevalier in the chest with his long finger.

Chevalier roughly brushed Gilbert's hand away. "Didn't anyone tell you to fix your jacket?" he asked, his eyes flickering to the jacket falling from Gilbert's frame, exposing his pale shoulders.

"My wife likes it this way," Gilbert replied, still smiling. "Since you're here, we should play against each other."

Let the Games Begin!

"You're a bit short there..." Gilbert apprised as his single eye flicked between Chevalier and son and his army of four.

"Oh, I know...you can borrow a few of mine." He tapped two of his sons and motioned for them to join Chevalier.

"That wasn't necessary," Chevalier said, frowning at the two mini-Gilberts now standing by his side. "And I out-number you now," he added with a raised brow.

"I know," Gilbert replied with a smile as sharp as a knife.

What did I get myself into? Chevalier felt a sharp sting in his stomach, reminiscent of the pains one might experience when Clavis was nearby. This will not end well.

Chevalier led his team to their designated hideout. He watched in awe as Gilbert's two sons unpacked enough paintball guns to equip a small army.

"Here, take this. It's better than any of the stuff they rent here."

Chevalier tossed his rental gun to the side; the one the mini-Gilbert handed him was a far superior model. Large, yet light in his hands, he nodded approvingly as they handed a similar styled gun to his son.

"You've never played before, have you?" one of the mini-Gilberts asked Chevalier, eyeing his white jacket.

"Just show me how to load this thing," Chevalier replied gruffly, grabbing a handful of paintballs.

After a brief rundown of how to operate the equipment and how to play, the team was ready to split up and start the battle.

"Papa likes to hide," one of the mini-Gilberts warned before the team split up.

Chevalier nodded as he directed the others which way to head.

He crept along his path, his gun at the ready, expecting the worst from Gilbert.

But it was quiet. Too quiet. So quiet, Chevalier found himself growing bored with this game.

He was about ready to drop his gun to his side when out of nowhere came a small figure screaming loudly.

"What the -" Chevalier shouted, shooting the child straight in the chest.

"You got me...." Gilbert's daughter clutched her heart as he body crumped to the ground.

"Dramatic. Just like your father," he said as he stood over her prone body.

One down, two to go.

"What happened to you?" Chevalier asked when he ran into one of the mini-Gilberts from his team.

"My brother....he's down that way. You might be able to sneak up on him."

Chevalier nodded silently and followed down the path until he found his target.

He hid behind cover as he watched and waited for the perfect moment.

When the moment was right, in the darkness of shadows, Chevalier stalked his prey, his gun at the ready.

When the mini-Gilbert's back was turned, Chevalier slipped from the shadows and aimed his gun.

Splat! Bright yellow mixed with black and red, a bright sun in the center of darkness.

"Ah, crap," the mini-Gilbert muttered as his hand reached around his back, his dark glove touching the yellow splatters of paint.

Two down, one to go.

It didn't take long for Chevalier to find the Final Boss; he simply went to where he would have hid.

When he heard Gilbert's familiar laughter, he knew he was in the right spot.

When he turned the final corner, Chevalier couldn't believe his eyes.

"What the bloody hell?!"

Gilbert was perched on a pile of wooden crates, his usual grin plastered on his face.

And a rather large bazooka in his hands.

"What are you doing with that thing?" Chevalier asked, telling himself that he was in no way, shape or form jealous of the weapon in Gilbert's hand.

"No one's ever actually found me during one of these paintball battles, so I've never actually used it. So sad, isn't it?"

Chevalier watched the strange, little man with curiosity as Gilbert stroked the weapon as if it were his pet.

"Do you know what you're doing with that thing?" Chevalier asked.

"Of course I do!" Gilbert exclaimed, offended to be asked such a question. "I built this myself, I -"

BOOM!

All of a sudden, the ground began to shake as the air filled with a giant cloud of acrid smoke. Chevalier covered his mouth with his forearm, his head still ringing, confused as to what exactly happened.

"Oops," Gilbert choked out in between coughs.

The Aftermath

"This was fun, we have to do it again. How's tomorrow?" Gilbert said with a smile as everyone was packing up their gear.

One of the mini-Gilberts pushed his bangs from his forehead as he let out a low sigh. "No, Papa. We have to wait a week. That's how long it will take the place to repair the damage you caused with your bazooka."

"Oh. How's next week then?" Gilbert asked, his smile sad, but not yet quite a frown.

"Yeah, sure," Chevalier mumbled as he and his son left.

"Dad?" Chevalier's son asked once they were outside. "I thought you and mom were going to that book fair next week?"

"Indeed."

"Then why'd you agree to come play then?"

"I won't be coming; your Uncle Clavis will. He and his army of Lelouchians would enjoy this barbaric game immensely."

#forgive me this is so long #ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #ikemen chevalier #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #ikemen gilbert #ikepri headcanons #ikemen headcanons #ikepri fanfic #ikemen fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic #otome headcanons

[celiciaa]

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

PREMIUM.

Together with the prince.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

trigger warning: mention of blood.

MINORS DNI.

━━FLASHBACK━━

Emma: I want my big brother to love me!

Emma: Even so…maybe I don't want to see him just yet.

Emma: …I want to love my big brother as much as he loves me.

Emma: So don't tell anyone...Gil.

━━FLASHBACK ENDS━━

(Sorry, Emma.)

(….The boy you fell in love with is no longer around.)

With one chamber empty and a gun in my pocket, I walked past the waiting soldiers.

There was once a boy who sincerely wished for the happiness of others and devoted himself to it.

An ignorant boy who did not know the dark side of humanity, he felt happiness every time someone laughed.

It is now a distant memory.

I frowned at the smell of blood.

Emma: ——Ah, Gil, gimme!

Gilbert: Eh, no way?

The next day, I brought a large amount of sweets to the laboratory and held a tea party.

Emma, who was sitting on my lap, grabbed my finger with her little hand.

Emma: Big brother Roderich told me earlier that eating too much sweets is not good.

(He says unnecessary things.)

Gilbert: I'm hungry.

Emma: ….What? Gil, you were eating a lot, aren’t you?

Gilbert: I haven't eaten at all. Only a little bit.

Emma: ….Huh?

Gilbert: Emma's a sweet girl, so she won't be mean to me when I'm hungry, will she?

When I smiled at her, she swallowed her words.

Emma: If your stomach is grumbling...fine, I'll let you off the hook.

Gilbert: Hehe, thank you. Emma needs to eat more too.

Emma: I'm full.

(…You only ate a few cookies, but I guess the little rabbit had a small appetite.)

(However, I have found that you prefer the ones with dried fruit mixed into the regular cookies.)

I chuckle as I learn yet another piece of information I didn't know before.

I was immersed in a strange sense of accomplishment, knowing that I had made the sweets by imitating the adult little rabbit.

I realized…that I was being peered into by those round eyes.

Gilbert: What?

Emma: Gil, is something wrong?

Gilbert: I don't think so. Why?

Emma: You're not looking well today.

(….)

Emma: …I wonder what I can do to make you laugh.

(I'm supposed to be smiling all the time.)

When I looked at my face reflected in the glass nearby, my expression was the same as usual.

But what those innocent eyes are looking at may not be the flower, but the root.

Emma: Ah, that's right! I'll introduce my friend to Gil.

(…Friend?)

Emma: "Hello, Gil."

Emma: "If you have any problems, I'm here to help you."

The little rabbit returned to my room with great enthusiasm, and what she held in her hands was a stuffed black tiger.

I couldn't help but blink as I realized that it hadn't happened until yesterday.

Gilbert: Who gave you this?

Emma: Big brother Walter. As an apology for making me cry.

Gilbert: Ah, I see?

(Heh...he can sew not only people, but also stuffed animals.)

Walter probably gave it to her while I was away preparing the sweets.

The choice of the black tiger as a motif shows the utmost consideration, but the omission is unacceptable.

(You look so happy.)

Emma: "Gil, let’s be friends."

The dark emotions that welled up in me calmed down when I saw how hard Emma was trying.

Gilbert: …Are you going to listen to my problems?

Emma: "Roar—!"

The stuffed animal nodded its head.

And I took a small breath.

Gilbert: Hey, Mr. Tiger. I'm a very bad person.

Gilbert: I'm not afraid to do bad things, and I'm better at taking the smiles off people's faces….

Gilbert: The little rabbit said she wanted to make everyone smile, but I can't do that.

Gilbert: I’m afraid the little rabbit will hate me.

(….I don’t know why I’m saying that to a child.)

Sure enough, there was no response from Mr. Tiger.

The little rabbit's brow was furrowed.

Gilbert: Hehe, I asked such a troublesome question.

(What's the point of worrying about such things?)

My problems that I wasn't even aware of until I put it into words.

Just as I was about to change the subject, Emma jumped like a rabbit and clung tightly to my waist.

Emma: I don't hate you.

Emma: But doing bad things is terrible!

Emma: If you do something bad, Gil will feel pain.

Gilbert: Me?

Emma: Yeah. I once lost a book that I borrowed from big brother Akatsuki.

Emma: I couldn’t say it because I'm afraid of being scolded….

Emma: But while I was quiet, my chest kept getting tighter.

Emma: Because I did something wrong and it hurts….

Emma: Isn't it the same for Gil?

("It hurts…")

Such feelings have long since rotted away.

Still, I felt a pain deep in my chest.

It is not guilt for my wrongdoing, but guilt for Emma, who hates murderers.

Emma's words resonate with me because I feel a prickle of emotion that I have never felt before.

Gilbert: I see. ...That's right.

(I'm starting to have some unsettling feelings after meeting you.)

Emma: Hey…Gil, I want you to bend down.

Gilbert: Hm?

I listened to Emma's pleas and bent to my knees.

Emma: Pain, pain go away, don't come again another day.

A small hand reached out and patted me on the head.

(…Does patting on the head mean you forgive me?)

(I'm sure he stroked her when she told him about the book she lost.)

I can easily imagine Akatsuki trying to comfort the crying Emma by patting her on the head.

She knows the feeling of relief at that time, which is probably why she says "there, there" like this.

(A woman who can share the kindness she has received with others…)

(I feel like I've learned a little of the secret of your kindness.)

Gilbert: You are good at encouraging.

Emma: Ehehe…

Emma's face naturally breaks into a smile as she beams with happiness.

Emma: I wonder if one day I'll be like my big brother who is so kind.

Gilbert: I don't think you’ll ever be.

Emma: Eh.

Gilbert: Or rather, don't become like him.

Emma: Why?

Gilbert: Because I want you to stay the way you are.

Gilbert: I think the little rabbit is already more than good enough.

Emma: I don't know….

When I patted her head back, Emma's eyes narrowed pleasantly.

Gilbert: I wanted to thank you for listening to my concerns. Emma, is there anything you want to do?

Emma: Ah, then, just one thing….

Emma: I’d like to play pretend.

Emma: With Gil, big brother Roderich, and big brother Walter…

Emma: We should all play it together!

Gilbert: All right, gladly. What pretend play should we try?

Emma: A hero saving a princess from the big bad demon king.

(Don’t tell me you read those kinds of books. How cute.)

Gilbert: So Emma is the princess, and big brother Walter is the demon king….

Gilbert: How about big brother Roderich should be the demon king's underling while I’m the hero, sounds good?

Emma: Yeah! You've got to come save me, Gil.

Gilbert: Of course.

Emma is really adorable, jumping around like a little rabbit.

(You were exactly the girl I'd imagined, just as I'd heard you would be.)

(I've wanted to meet you. Ever since I was a child….)

When I am infected with evil, I do things that rob others of their smiles.

Even if I met her during our childhood days, nothing would change.

But there is one thing I have gained.

(I’m not going to stop committing evil deeds…)

(When it hurts, pat me on the head.)

I laughed, knowing that the idea itself was evil.

(When I was patted, it became more and more painful….)

(I can feel that there is still a little bit of the old me left.)

 ▸       [  previous / next ]

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

[clavissionary-position]

—gilbert spoilers, be aware—

Emma: Gil, I've noticed there's very little seafood in Obsidian.

Gilbert: (sets his research away) That's correct. What little we have comes from our lakes, and it's still too much of a hassle for us to consider importing. (He pats his lap)

Emma: (sets the giant tray of cookies down on his desk before plopping onto his lap) So people here have never had calamari?

Gilbert: (wraps his arms around her waist) Mmm, I'm sure people in certain circles have. I think they served it once during a ball in my youth. (He opens his mouth as Emma begins feeding him)

Emma: (pauses) Ah. I'm guessing those particular circles are... no longer around?

Gilbert: (smiles meaningfully) You catch on quick. (He pecks the cookie out of her hand and speaks while chewing.) Our aquaculture industry is far better than it was five or six years ago. Actually, I've thought about engineering our own species of squid.

Emma: Uh... what? Engineering? (She uses her fingertip to dab away some crumbs on his lip)

Gilbert: (watches her delightedly knowing that she's expecting him to bite any moment now) Hehe, indeed. I'm sure you've noticed while cooking here that not everything we grow is native to Obsidian.

Emma: (still on guard as she withdraws her finger without incident) Well, breeding and cultivating is one thing, but you said engineering. Like making something from scratch. Making meat, erm, I guess seafood. In a lab. Gil, I've never heard of anyone doing something like that outside of horror novels.

Gilbert: Little Rabbit. (He places a cool hand on her head and gives it a single pat) What's more horrible to you? Creating food or being without it?

Emma: (stares at him because he's clearly oversimplifying things)

Gilbert: (stares back with a pleasant smile, sunny as can be)

Emma: ...

Gilbert: ...

Emma: ......

Gilbert: ......

Emma: (epiphany)

Gilbert: (widens his smile, showing teeth)

Emma: So all the beef, the pork... The meat I've been baking into your cookies... (stares at the cookie in her hand as Gilbert's shadow covers her entire arm)

Gilbert: Hehe, not all of it, of course. But a country like Obsidian could hardly have come back from a famine as quickly as we did without some help.

Emma: (looks at Gilbert with a mixture of fear and awe; tries to only feel the awe)

Gilbert: (bittersweet pout) There's a certain principle that says that anything that can go wrong will go wrong at some point. You could call it the burden of the scientist. Knowing the worst-case scenario is only one mishap away, but also knowing that you can save ten-thousand people today. Oh—but as the evil villain, I've always pushed boundaries to satisfy my own curiosity.

Emma: (remembers what Roderich once said to her)

Gilbert: Ahaha, whaaat?

Emma: (looks him in the eye sincerely) I hate lies, you know.

Gilbert: ...!

Emma: (heaves a long sigh and then suddenly pushes a cookie into Gilbert's mouth) Despite what you say, I don't think you've ever really stopped to appreciate everything you're capable of, and everything, all the good that you've done.

Gilbert: (tries to speak but Emma silences him by partially covering his mouth with hers for a split second)

Emma: (pulls away with half the cookie in her mouth and a sad smile) The meat here in Obsidian is the best I've ever had. What hurts me is that I might have gone on without ever knowing just how thoroughly you've tread over every facet of my day-to-day life. Not just my life, but everyone's.

Emma: (chews cutely as she rests her head on his shoulder) What's horrible to me is not knowing how radiant you are.

a/n: i know jack shit about growing meat in a lab and i was too lazy to google soooo. also i remembered that the meat cookies emma starts making for gil are made using the meat from obsidian military rations, at least initially, ahaha ^^; emma didn't particularly care for the taste of the rations on the occasion(s) when she tried them, sooooo. but let's pretend she made her own jerky from Obsidian Beef to put into the cookies in this fic lol

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