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luciehercndale · 8 months

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Happiness Was Itself A Chemical Reaction - Gracetopher

Grace and Christopher are both 22 and they are attending their final year at university in the United States. I don't say what they study, but I figured they'd be interested in chemical engineering!✨ They are trying to complete this experiment they have to show to their class, but they are not in luck. Good for them, they can take a break and go to London through portal to have dinner with some known faces :) This fic is canon divergent so some of the events of Chain of Thorns didn't happen here, including [redacted]'s death. Read on A03 💜

“What do you think of wine, Grace?”

When Christopher asked Grace such a random question, she wasn’t the least bit surprised. It was late morning, the rays of the sun filtered through the high windows and bathed the table with chemicals and beakers in warm colors. Grace loved spending her time working in the lab and devouring science books until she was sick of it (she was never sick of this, if you asked her).

She also developed an unexpected appreciation for the simple things, which were denied to her as she grew up. The things everyone took for granted. Spending more minutes in bed and going through her day at her pace, occasionally taking a morning off to think about what was not adding up to something new she was trying in the lab. Watering her favorite flowers, which she planted herself in the backyard of the Fairchild residence back in Grosvenor Square.

She believed that keeping a little garden would keep her busy and teach her more about nature and science while she wasn’t studying. She thought they could also help with experiments, and she started to keep a diary to annotate their progress as they grew. Just like her.

“Imagine if we could make hair dye or other cosmetics from the petals,” Grace suggested one day to Christopher. He was bent over the table, using the microscope. His glasses were close to falling off his nose, but he didn’t make any move to adjust them.

He observed and took notes, but glanced at Grace when she spoke, her ideas sparked his interest and he needed to put off his work to listen to her. “Hair dye, you say? Cosmetics? Done by using the process followed by Phoenicians?”

She nodded with a sincere smile, and they started discussing whether that could be achieved.

Most of Grace’s days would go on like that. After the invention of fire messages, Kit told her about other projects he had that could benefit the shadow world, but he needed to do some research before he could be sure that he was on the right path. Grace had beamed at the prospect of working on new things, but she had also been thrilled to work on new things together.

Making new discoveries and enriching her science studies were her new life goals. Years prior, she had never thought she would say that, but here she was. She was enormously grateful for Christopher too, whom she thought to be the best person to accompany her in her journey. Grace saw Kit as a professor who knew too much but was too young. Someone who could teach her but who also seemed stimulated by their talks in the lab. But, of course, it wasn’t just that.

Grace enjoyed her time with Kit. It wasn’t just what they worked on in the laboratory that made her happy, it was his presence too. Nothing seemed to truly faze him and she was a little jealous of his positive attitude towards life. And his unpredictability made life with him peculiar to be with. She was always eager to hear what he had to say, and she realized he was too, with her.

Things were evolving, albeit slowly, but she wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere. She never thought she would get where she was and she was happy with the progress she made, but she knew she could do more.

“I want to go to college,” she informed her brother one day.

Jesse raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I’m not surprised. You would do great in college,” he said. “There is money to pay for tuition,” he added, to which Grace nodded. She knew that woman had enough funds that could build a castle, but she also knew that they couldn’t still obtain those yet. The will said Jesse had to be eighteen to access the money, which he would be soon.

“I know. And I wanted to ask you because –” she bit her lip and sighed. “Those are Blackthorn money,” your money, she wanted to add, but recognition in her brother’s eyes told her he understood her concerns. “And you still can’t access them.”

“But I will in a few weeks,” he offered Grace a genuine smile. “Those money are mine as much as they are yours, Gracie,” he replied to her mental question. “You can do whatever you wish. If college is your dream, do not hesitate to take as much as you need.”

Grace’s smile was bright when she went on to tell Christopher about her decision. “You know, we could really use a bigger laboratory and the backing of an academic institution,” he told her, his eyes beaming at her. She could tell he was already starting to plan. “We could have funds and –”

“We have to graduate first,” Grace reminded him. “We’ll be just college students to them, until the end.”

“Yes, of course, but we will still have access to the lab and to ingredients and chemicals we can use for your research,” he winked. “It may even get academic recognition in the mundane world.”

“Kit,” Grace said, her voice low. “Does this mean you’ll be attending with me?”

“Of course,” he told her, his eyes wide and his smile even wider. “I’ve always loved this lab and studying by myself, don’t get me wrong. But getting full access to a variety of books I can borrow freely? And working with my favorite person? Amazing! A dream come true.”

Favorite person? Grace tried not to blush too much, but Kit was gazing at her and she smiled. A dream she never thought would come true.

They had enrolled at a college in the United States, thinking that it would do them well to leave the stale and humid London air for a while. Going abroad scared Grace a little, since she had never traveled by herself. But then she remembered that Christopher would be with her, and she felt safe. She would be able to visit every few months thanks to the portals, and in the meantime, she could exchange fire messages and use the mundane telephone to keep in touch with her brother and her other immediate family.

Grace wasn’t surprised that they had accepted her request to join the university. America was more open to women joining college, and this was another reason why she thought it was better to move overseas to study. She was sure she could have a better experience there, and the experience proved right. She was glad she chose the United States.

That afternoon, she wondered what wine had to do with their experiments, but she was glad for the break. They were studying the distillation process of some chemicals, and they needed to show it to the class, in addition to creating a stable solution that would not explode. This would get them closer to graduation, and they needed for it to go well. Thinking about graduation brought her joy, but she was also frustrated because they still couldn’t achieve their goal. If they’d worked on it for fun, she wouldn’t have minded spending more time on it. But they had a deadline, and they needed to hurry.

“I only tasted it once,” Grace confessed, remembering the moment with a slight shudder. She wondered if Kit caught that. “It had a bitter taste, and I do not wish to drink it again for the time being.”

Christopher raised his eyebrows, nodding. “I understand, that is a fine decision, by the way,” he managed a genuine smile. “I consumed wine on more than one occasion, even though I shouldn’t have, but,” he shrugged. “Fine, I guess, but not my favorite. I do not enjoy alcohol and I suggest people should mind how they consume it.”

“Then why did you taste it?” Grace wondered.

“Because I was curious about how it tasted,” he said, as if he was just talking about a dessert or some food. “And how wine is perfected to become the way it is. Do you know that you also need to do laboratory tests to check the status of the wine?”

“I suppose so,” she arranged her notes in her lap and shrugged. The grandfather clock chimed in to announce the time, and she didn’t continue.

The sound of the wooden device made Grace gaze up at it. Lunch would be served soon, but they wouldn’t eat lunch. Not there, at least. She glanced back at Kit, and noticed him staring intently at her.

“You stopped talking, Grace,” Christopher said quietly. “Perhaps you find the topic of heavy drinks uncomfortable? Because we can talk about something else. For example, do you prefer tea or coffee?”

She laughed softly, and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. Old habits die hard. “Certainly, those two can still classify as drinks, don’t they?”

“Of course, they can. Their base is a liquid, and they do satisfy thirstiness,” Kit answered with glee. “But they are no less harmful than an alcoholic drink. Do you know that tea and coffee are stimulants and they can cause severe damage to your body if you have too much?”

“No, I did not. I did not know that,” she told him humbly. “I hope you didn’t try to prove this theory like you did with the wine.”

Christopher made a face. “I love tea and I love tea with lemon tarts, especially those mama makes,” he put his hand in front of his mouth and whispered: “don’t tell aunt Sophie that. She thinks I love hers more, but she doesn’t put enough lemon in them and I want them to taste like lemon, not some washed out version of it.”

Grace giggled, and glanced at the clock again. “Perhaps we should get ready to leave.”

“Oh,” he also gazed at the clock, and then at the window. “Yes, you are right, Grace. I lost track of time talking about wine, and I’m not even inebriated!”

They both laughed and started gathering their things. They had a dinner to attend, and they didn’t want to be late.

They were expected at Christopher’s house that morning. Or night. New York was five hours behind London, and it meant that when they crossed the portal that led to the London Institute, it would be evening in the old country. They would be five hours in the future, and this often fascinated Grace. Did it mean they traveled back in time once they returned? Of this, she wasn’t sure.

“Feels good to be back for a short while,” Christopher said once they found themselves in the basement of the London Institute. He inhaled the air, which Grace found funny. “The air seems cleaner than New York. One time, we should measure both.”

“There’s too much pollution in the States,” Grace nodded. “Perhaps we can do something about it.”

“We will see about that,” he beamed at her, ever excited about the prospect of improving people’s lives.

They climbed the narrow staircase that took them to the main hall. Grace’s heart hammered in her chest once she saw who was waiting for their arrival. Her brother Jesse turned upon hearing their steps on the ancient floors, and his pensive expression suddenly turned into a bright smile.

“Grace,” he muttered affectionately, and Grace couldn’t help but quicken her pace and hurry to him. They hadn’t seen each other for two months because the last time Grace and Kit had visited, Jesse was in Idris for shadowhunter business. “Hello, Christopher,” he said to his cousin. “How have you been? Is New York treating you well? ”

“Good, really good,” she managed a grin. “New York is the same as usual, you should come again sometimes,” she suggested.

“I believe Lucie would have fun with inspiration there. I have lost count on how many murders have happened recently,” Christopher chimed in, and Jesse frowned. “Do you remember, Grace? We helped the police, once, when that fellow student was found dead on the campus.”

Grace shook her head. “It’s not like I keep track,” she glanced at her brother, who was curious and astonished at the same time. “And it was just one time, and it was for a good cause. He died because of a demon attack, but they will never know.”

“Murders on campus because of demons?” Jesse raised an eyebrow. “Sure, that’s probably a topic Lucie would love to hear more about,” he chuckled, and his eyes wandered on the staircase behind them.

“On that note,” Kit said, “where is Lucie? Is she not coming with us?”

“She is coming,” he answered. “She had a last minute urgency,” he offered a smile without disclosing much. “She’ll be here s– oh, there she is.”

They all turned in time to see Lucie coming down the stairs, her hair up and held by a glittering pin on the side of her face. When she saw Grace and Kit, her smile widened, but she still took her time descending the stairs, perhaps because of the emergency her brother had cited as the reason for her delay. Her face was flushed, maybe because she was in a hurry.

“We were about to leave without you,” Christopher said, and Grace didn’t know if he meant it as a joke or not. He seemed serious. She still smiled. “You are late,” he added, and Lucie subtly glanced at her brother and shrugged.

“Alas, it couldn’t be helped,” she replied enthusiastically. “I’m pleased to see you again after two months!” she added, changing the topic. “How are you faring? Is there something interesting happening in the Big Apple?”

“Do you like murder, Lucie?” Christopher wondered.

“Do you mean as a literary topic or literally?” Lucie inquired, and they started walking to the main door. “Tell me more about it.”

Grace and Jesse looked at each other and made a face, then followed after them to the carriage waiting outside.

It was a short ride to Bedford Square, where Christopher’s parents still lived with his younger brother Alexander. They also hadn’t seen their son and Grace for two months, and they were beyond themselves when they finally arrived. It was nice to be back for a short while, and being around some of the people she cared about the most. That night it was just her, Christopher, his parents, her brother Jesse and Lucie, who was now his wife.

“Are you eating well in New York? Because if not, I’m going to come to the college and argue with your principal and his poor meal services,” Cecily threatened. Grace knew that those weren’t empty threats.

“Do not worry, mama. We are eating well. Right, Grace?”

Grace blinked, trying not to betray much emotion. “Yes, don’t worry,” she said politely, but Kit’s mom was still frowning. She probably didn’t buy it, she thought, eyeing her companion, who had moved to talk to his father. And for good reason.

“Tell me the truth, Grace,” Cecily leaned in and lowered her voice, as Christopher laughed at something Gabriel said to little Alexander Lightwood. “I don’t want to pry into your life as you are not children anymore, but you both look like you could use more sleep and better food. I’ve briefly been to the United States, but their food tastes awful.”

Grace smiled at the comment. “It isn’t awful. I would not define it as such, but it isn’t my favorite either. We are eating, if this is what you are worrying about,” she said. She didn’t specify that they mostly survived on dachshund sausages that they could buy from street vendors and other types of takeout food they could eat in the lab.

Cecily didn’t seem convinced, but she let it go, and Grace exhaled a sigh of relief. She wasn’t great with small talk, and she didn’t know how to lie properly. She’d rather not lie, but she believed that white lies were okay. Christopher’s mom was highly inquisitive, and she could smell when someone wasn’t being honest with her. After they moved abroad, she used to come everyday through a portal to check on them because she worried about their wellbeing in New York City too much. At some point, she realized that they wanted their independence and that she needed to let them live their life and be independent, which Grace vastly appreciated.

It was pleasant to know that there was someone other than her brother who also cared about her like that. It had been three years since they moved, and they tried to arrange dinners every few weeks to keep in touch with their families. But that hadn’t been possible in the last two months, because of the workload from the lab that they still needed to complete.

Grace sighed just thinking about it, but she trusted that they could make it in time.

“Do you like lemon tarts, Grace?” uncle Gabriel asked, his hand holding a small tray with Christopher’s favorite treat. She had probably sighed for real and hadn’t noticed it.

“Yes, thanks,” she grabbed one. “Did Aunt Cecily make these?”

“She woke up at dawn to make them perfect,” he took one from the tray and tasted it, making an elated face when he did. “Delicious. My wife is an amazing baker,” she glanced at Cecily, who was deep in conversation with Jesse and Christopher on the sofa. Lucie was beside them but she was silent, every now and then grinning and commenting at something they had said. Little Alex was still there but he was falling asleep on Kit’s arm.

“They are great, you are right,” Grace nodded. “Can we get some to take to New York with us?”

Gabriel’s smile widened. “Cecily prepared a box for you and Kit. It is meant to be a surprise, but it doesn’t matter,” he giggled. “Pretend you are surprised when she gives it to you, please,” he demanded, and it made Grace laugh. Sometimes, uncle Gabriel reminded her so much of Christopher, and it was funny to see where he probably inherited his inability to keep secrets.

“I’ll pretend you never told me, uncle,” she lowered her voice and glanced at the group to see if they’d heard them. They probably didn’t. Someone made a joke and they were laughing out loud.

Gabriel giggled at the sight and excused himself to the kitchen to get the drinks. Grace walked to the group right as Alex was protesting.

“I was sleeping, mama!” He said with annoyance and rubbed his eyes.

“There will be more laughing, my dear,” Cecily said gently to her youngest son. “Perhaps it is time you go to bed? You are tired.”

“No, I want to be with you,” he cried, and held Kit's arm even more tightly. “You will go and I will see you again in two months and I don’t like that!”

“Come, come, Alex,” Kit said. “We will come back soon, and we will play next time. Not tonight. There is not enough time tonight.”

“If you want,” intervened Grace, “we could take you to bed and wait until you fall asleep?”

Alex’s eyes lit up at the proposition. “Yes, please!” he said excitedly, taking Christopher’s hand and dragging him towards Grace. He also took her hand, then turned to the other three. “I’m sorry Lucie, I’m sorry Jesse. You can’t come,” he said fiercely. “And I hope you aren’t jealous. You’ll take me to bed next time, good?”

“No hard feelings, little man,” Jesse said with a grin. Everyone was smiling at Alex’s peculiar personality.

“Yes, have fun with your brother and Grace,” Lucie added, and the kid smiled happily.

They turned towards the staircase and Alex held Grace and Kit’s hands in his. She heard her lab companion say: “Kiddo, do you like murders?” and she rolled her eyes with a grin. She couldn’t expect any less from a boy whose family loved to recount how their ancestor, and Christopher’s very own grandfather, had turned into a worm.

Alexander fell asleep after Christopher started telling him about the last New York serial killer the police were trying to locate. He didn’t even have the time to tell him more, that Alex closed his eyes, his hands still holding theirs, and started snoring peacefully.

“I don’t think he likes murder stories that much,” Kit commented once they left the kid’s room.

“I believe he was just tired,” Grace said. “It is barely afternoon for us, while it is late at night for him.”

He snorted loudly, and stopped at the top of the stairs. “Which reminds me,” he sighed, “we must go back to the laboratory once we cross the portal. I mean, not at the same time, but you understand. We must complete our experiment before next week.”

“We do, and we will,” she said confidently. “But first, we should enjoy more time with our family. We haven’t seen them for weeks and I don’t know you, but I appreciate this break, albeit brief. And the food.”

“The food here is something else,” he confessed. “I trust your confidence, Grace,” he continued with a hopeful smile. “It is a delight working with you,” he added, which made her blush. Before she could reply, though, he went downstairs. Typical Kit behavior.

She didn’t follow, though. Instead, she decided to take that time to use the bathroom. It was enough socializing for the night, and she needed to recollect and refresh herself. Cecily outdid herself with the dinner, and she didn’t think she could accept more cakes even though she wanted to. When she reached the bathroom, the door was shut, which meant someone was inside.

It didn’t take long for the door to open, and a surprised Lucie appeared from the other side. “Grace,” she muttered, her mouth slightly open. “I’m sorry, I must have lounged in the bathroom for too long.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t so urgent,” she said, eyeing her dress. Lucie often dressed in blue hues, but tonight, she wore a dark pink chiffon dress. There was a stain on the silk part on the bodice, and it stood out. Grace’s eyes lingered too much on it, and she blinked.

Her gaze met Lucie’s, which managed a shy smile before glancing where her sister in law had just been. “By the Angel, I stained my dress,” she sighed, as if she was resigned and she expected for it to happen. She rushed to the sink, and she was about to dab her handkerchief on the stain when Grace took her hand by the wrist and gently stopped her.

“You will ruin it if you put water like that, and it will stain more,” Grace told her quietly. “Let me see if there is baking soda in the kitchen. Wait here,” she ordered, and returned as soon as she could with what she needed.

Lucie was still there, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. Grace had already thought she seemed to glow with a new light, but now, in the small bathroom at the Lightwood’s, she could see it better. She brightened when she realized Grace was there. “Did you find it?” she pleaded, and turned to face her.

Grace put a bit of white powder on the stain and used a wet handkerchief to cover it. “We should wait a few minutes and rinse it off,” she explained. “Baking soda works wonders with stains.”

“I didn’t know about that,” she said. “If it works, I’m taking you out for lunch next time you come here.”

“It will work,” Grace said confidently. “I would like to have lunch with you, but are you sure you will be okay? If you are in the first trimester, this may happen again.”

“I –” Lucie opened her mouth in disbelief. “I am, apparently,” she replied. “How did you know?” she asked, placing a hand on her stomach on instinct. “I’m barely showing.”

Grace looked at Lucie’s belly, which, like she said, didn’t seem any different than the last time they saw each other. “You are glowing,” she said. “You often radiate this energy, but tonight your cheeks almost match your dress,” she raised her eyebrows, tilting her head on the side. “You also declined a drink, which isn’t itself telling. I casually glanced at you while you ate, and you seemed distressed because you have nausea, am I right?”

“I’m quite predictable, aren’t I?” Lucie nodded. “Perhaps the others must’ve caught on too.”

Grace shrugged with a hint of a smile, but didn’t answer. “Let’s see if the stain disappeared,” she said instead, and used the same handkerchief to remove the baking soda. “It’s gone, but you’ll still have to get this dress cleaned as soon as possible or it will leave a halo on the texture.”

“You are a lifesaver, Grace,” Lucie took her hand in hers. “I’m beyond grateful for your assistance. Thank you. Thank you so much!” she said gleefully. “I shall go back to the living room before everyone thinks I fell into the toilet because a sewer monster got me,” she laughed, and Grace laughed with her. Their eyes locked, and Grace realized she wasn’t done. “Please, do not tell a soul. Only Jesse knows,” she spoke rapidly. “We’ve just found out about this and –” she bit her lip and sighed, and Grace noticed her cheeks turned even more pink. “I wanted to be sure that it was real and it wouldn’t be like what happened to mam,” she didn’t elaborate on that, and offered a tight smile. She supposed her mother had lost a child once, and was terrified it could happen to her. “You’re the first to unofficially know.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I’m glad you’re entrusting me with this news, Lucie. And I will keep your secret, don’t worry, ” she admitted. Funny how that was the second time that day that she was promising to keep a secret. Or maybe the third. She smiled to herself. “And –” she stopped, hearing steps coming from the living area. She relaxed when she saw it was her brother Jesse.

“There you are, girls,” he said. “I thought some demon kidnapped you. I was ready to get my gear and my sword.”

Grace made a face, and she exchanged a grin in acknowledgment with Lucie and chuckled. “Being with you is rubbing off on his creativity,” she told her.

“What?” he wondered, but the girls just shrugged.

“Nothing of importance, my darling. I’m going back to the living room before aunt Cecily says I didn’t want to eat the other dessert she made,” Lucie winked at Grace and patted Jesse’s arm. He stared at her until she disappeared at the end of the corridor.

“Lucie told me the good news,” Grace confessed, and Jesse frowned. “She told me no one knows, and I’m going to respect your privacy. Let me congratulate you, since you’re here.”

“Thank you, Grace,” he replied and his eyes lit up. She could tell he was happy and she was too. She only wished for Jesse to be happy and she knew he also wished the same to her. “And I’m glad the cat is out of the bag. I don’t know how long I could’ve kept it from you,” he laughed. “Maybe you figured it all out before she even told you. You are quite perceptive.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged with a knowing smile.

“It feels like yesterday when you told me you wanted to attend college,” he told her after a beat. “And it didn’t surprise me at all. You’ve always been smart, Grace. I’m glad you found something that makes you happy.”

“I am happy,” she said proudly, her voice a little shy. She never thought she would say it out loud a few years ago, but here she was. “Studying in New York makes me happy,” she added, and her brother grinned. “And even though three years flew by, I think I’m just getting started.”

“I think mama’s cake upset Lucie’s stomach,” Kit told Grace after dinner. They ditched Lucie and Jesse’s offer to ride on the carriage back to the London Institute with them, and decided to take a breath of fresh air and walk to Fleet Street.

“Do you believe so?” Grace played clueless. “I found your mother’s cooking agreeable, and so did the other guests.”

“Yes, it was quite okay, considering,” he glanced at her with a genuine smile. “Her face was green when she finished the first course, maybe she is p –”

“I thought you said there was a place you wanted to take me,” her eyes flickered with an idea to divert the conversation. She promised Lucie to keep her secret, after all, and she wanted to end the night in London by doing something else. “Is it still open at this dreadful hour?”

Christopher blinked. “Oh, yes. I completely forgot. I can take you there, but it’s not open.”

“Blimey,” Grace sighed, but at least she has diverted the conversation on to another topic. “Then we could go next time we come to London, if you want?”

“No, tonight will do,” he said confidently. “We can still break in with an open rune, Grace. If you want to. I want to show you this place because it could help us with our research which is due in a few days,” he reminded her.

She pursed her lips. “You are right. Unfortunately, though, we are not thieves. We can’t just break in a mundane place just to use a lab.”

“Of course, we can,” Kit’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s for the sake of science, right?”

“Why can’t we go during the visiting hours?”

“Because there aren’t visiting hours, Grace,” he answered. “We are going to a distillery. Or a winery, if you like.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “That’s why you asked me about wine today?”

“Okay? Just like that?” Christopher demanded. He was beyond excited. “What if I told you it was run by the mob?”

Grace frowned. “What of it?”

“You are so brave,” he grinned. “But no, I was kidding. It is a regular winery owned by regular people. I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Well, you have seen it. How about you take me there now?”

And that, he did. “We are here,” he said after not much time. Grace realized they reached the Northern entrance to Regent’s Park, which had an eerie atmosphere at that hour of the night.

“I only see the park,” she admitted, but then her eyes adjusted to the dim lights and she made out the outline of a small building, which was right behind the main entrance of the park. “Oh, I see it now.”

“We better prepare,” Christopher said, and Grace saw he drew a night vision rune on his forearm. “Give me your arm,” he demanded once he was done, and he did the same on her wrist. She appreciated the gesture.

“You are talking as if we are going to have to fight, or something,” Grace said, trying to follow Kit as he neared the entrance of the factory. Mad Oak Distillery, that was the name.

“Or something,” he replied with a chuckle. “Quite a riveting name, isn’t it? Unfortunately, I don’t know why they chose it,” he said. “Perhaps there was such a grandiose oak on this soil, and they had to cut down the tree to build their business. They believed they uprooted the whole tree, but the roots were still underground, and they got mad because they lost their body, so to speak.”

“Sounds fair,” Grace commented. “The oak had every right to be mad.”

“You can say it. But,” he continued, his hand pointing at the big text with the name of the factory. “Metropolitan legends say that the wine this factory produces is maddening. As that is displeasing. Insufferable. Vomit inducing –” he looked up and lost himself in his thoughts, “perhaps my parents served that at dinner? That’s probably why, my cousin –”

“Christopher,” Grace put a hand on his arm and managed a smile. “Shall we see it for ourselves?”

“You’re right, we shall,” he agreed with a grin. “Can you draw an open rune, Grace?”

“Right away,” she said. Once she finished, the main doors gave away, and they entered.

It was pitch dark, and they used a witchlight to see where they were going. There was a door in the furthest corner of the room which pointed to the laboratory. Grace knew they were going there without asking Christopher. After all, supposedly, they broke in to witness how a winery worked so they would get help with their project, but with Kit, she never knew what to expect.

They found the laboratory where they tested the wine’s acidity and other stuff. “The taste of wine doesn’t just depend on the quality of the grapes,” Christopher told her as they wandered around and checked some papers the workers left there, “but also from other factors.”

“What do you think is missing from our research? Why won’t that liquid stabilize like wine ferments?” Grace huffed. She was tired, and she didn’t want to hide it. Doing this experiment was taking a toll on her already messed up sleeping schedule. She was frustrated.

“Wine fermentation is one of the oldest chemical reactions used by people,” Christopher said, glancing at some notes on a desk. “This laboratory is such an amazing place, and I thought it would offer some input on how to proceed with our work, but alas, it didn’t.”

“We still have time to mull over it,” Grace considered. She put her hand over Kit’s, still holding some papers, and he looked up.

“Yes, definitely,” he agreed. The moment seemed endless, as neither of them broke eye contact, at a loss for words. “Maybe –” he began, and all of a sudden, lights turned on in the room.

“What is happening?” Grace asked with alarm. “Isn’t it shut down for the night?”

“I forgot,” Christopher shook his head as if he realized he had left the gas open in the kitchen but he didn’t care. “This factory is managed by a vampire named Oak, hence the name. And the wine is actually,” he gazed up at Grace, who frowned. “No, it’s not blood. But it is red as blood because of a peculiar kind of grape they grow in the countryside from where Oak was born centuries ago. I’m sorry but I don’t think we can go look at the barrels underground to tas –”

She didn’t let him finish. Grace grabbed his hand and took him in the adjacent room, and begged him to stay silent. Muffled voices came from the laboratory, and Kit’s mouth gaped open as if to speak, but he did not. Luckily for them, there was an exit door nearby, and they went through it in silence.

Grace exhaled a sigh of relief once outside. “That was close.”

“It was, but I wouldn’t have minded if they found us there.”

“You don’t? They could’ve reported us to the High Warlock of London for trespassing or something,” she said, but she wasn’t sure if that could be possible. She started working on the street that would take them to the London Institute, the Mad Oak several steps behind them.

Kit was laughing softly. “I’m sorry, Grace, I should’ve told you.”

“Told me what?”

“That I knew Oak, the owner. I made business with him at the Shadow Market when I still lived in London full time, and in exchange, he said I could visit his laboratory to get advice on the fermentation process.”

Grace snorted and shook her head, then she started laughing. “And here I thought I would go to vampire jail or that they would bite me out of spite for finding their secrets about winemaking.”

“Don’t worry, they can’t,” Kit said, and he offered her a grin. “And we had a deal, but our time is up, regrettably. He told me I could come here while there was nobody but it looks like the night shift just started.”

“We’ll just have to make do with what we have,” Grace sighed, worn out at this point.

“Which, luckily for us, here I have some notes I got from the laboratory,” Kit showed her the bundle of papers that he had checked out while they were looking around.

“Won’t Oak get… mad?”

“Nah, don’t sound too worried. He made a copy for us,” Christopher said nonchalantly, and Grace scoffed.

It looked like she wasn’t the only one keeping secrets that night.

They arrived at the London Institute in complete silence, and Grace found her brother waiting for them by the Portal downstairs with the boxes (plural) of lemon tarts Cecily baked for them.

“Thanks Jesse, but you could have left them on the floor,” Christopher muttered and grabbed the boxes, nearing the Portal as Grace stopped beside her brother. “Oh, and, since you’re here, do you remember if we drank wine by Mad Oak Distillery by any chance?”

Jesse frowned and thought about it for a few seconds. “Uhm… no? Why is that? Do you want me to get it for you before you leave? I don’t think Will likes that one –”

Grace sighed and turned to Kit, ready to do damage control. He wasn’t letting it go, was he…

“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly said. “Just curious. Well, Grace, I am going. I’ll wait for you on the other side,” he grinned. “And I will see you next time, Jesse. And congratulations! Too bad Lucie is not here…” he waved and crossed the portal, not waiting for an answer.

Grace was baffled. She shot an apologetic look at her brother, but he shook his head. “Don’t worry, I know you kept the secret. He already cornered me after Lucie left the room to inquire about her condition, and I’m sure he understood. Sooner or later, everyone will know anyway,” he shrugged.

She nodded. “We’ll see each other before the baby is born,” Grace promised, and she hoped she wasn’t lying to herself and to Jesse about that. “See you soon,” she managed a smile before disappearing through the portal as well, and returned to her imminent task.

They didn’t go back to the laboratory after coming from London, even though Grace had promised Christopher they would, and she was feeling a bit guilty for losing precious hours. But her body demanded sleep, so she excused herself to bed after crossing safely back to the United States. The following morning, she found Christopher right outside her room, and they went to the laboratory again.

He took the Mad Oak notes with him, and they started dissecting the writing together, discussing options and trying, but failing. Grace's spirits fell and she felt even more exhausted than yesterday after their little adventure at the factory.

“Perhaps we should get a dachshund sausage,” Christopher suggested after lunch hours had greatly passed, but Grace barely shook her head. He had already stopped reading the material, and was massaging his temples. He needed a break.

“Wait, wait, stop,” Grace announced after a while, rereading a piece of the notes and making a few calculations on a blank piece of paper. Kit was intent on watching her as she wrote, and then – “I think I found the problem!” she exclaimed, and showed it to him. “See, maybe it’s this. If we change this and put this other one in its stead –”

Kit nodded and started helping her until they were done processing. Seconds felt eternal as they waited for the concoction to explode… and it didn’t. They’d made it.

“I think we did it, Grace,” he said enthusiastically. “It is stable! It didn’t explode! My glasses are safe,” he joked, and she laughed softly.

“Yes, we did,” she couldn’t believe herself. “We finally did it!”

“Well,” he continued. “Can I hug you, Grace? To celebrate?”

She answered by hugging him. She could feel his own heart racing and she knew hers was the same.

Was that what true happiness feels like?

She loved that sense of finally making it after long hours spent researching for the best outcome. The excitement of finding the missing piece. Grace didn’t know much about her future, but she was positive that she wanted to do this for a long time, with Christopher by her side.

Happiness was itself a chemical reaction. Quite like how they made wine, the taste of happiness didn’t just depend on one element. Happiness could be a place, could be a food, could be a person. Or it could be all those things mixed together, many of those things. More than one place. More than one person. When we are with them, they affect how we feel and send signals throughout our bodies that we are happy. Our heart beats loudly in our chest. Our hands are sweaty. We smile uncontrollably, laugh, and feel giddy.

Happiness was one of the oldest chemical reactions used by people, and it was free. Just like Grace.

Hey readers! Thank you so much for reading <3 Here's some things I wanted to point out:

America allowed women to get into university around 1880's.

I don't think Jesse needed to turn 18 to access Blackthorn money (I believe Tatiana left them A LOT of money) but I wanted to add this modern touch lol

Dachshunds sausages is the name for hot dogs in the XIX century :) they were exported to the US from Germany. I thought that Grace and Kit would be the types to eat street food while they work at the lab, because it's easy to manage.

I apologize if I said something wrong when I talked about what they were doing in the lab and about wine making. I'm not too good with explaining such stuff and I tried to do research, so I hope it wasn't bad.

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dyinggirldied · 2 years

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An AU where Athy knew Cale’s true identity as Kim Rok Soo and Cale knew Athy as Lee Jihye (can be from the time when they were in the orphanage together in their previous Korean lives). After Claude got amnesia and hated Athy again, she decided to run to Roan Kingdom and joined force with Cale because she was tired of acting cheerfulness, tired of sleepless nights of fearing when Claude would favor Jennette and despise her, and dying again.

Like, I want to see an AU where these two powerful beauties starting chaos together!

Like, Cale could have someone knowing him from his orphanage days and understanding his personality clearly (no misunderstandings, cough, except for everyone else). And Athy can freely express herself. That, and I wish the manhwa has let Athy showoff her powerful mana (magic?) ability more. Imagine the former alcoholic trashy young master now powerful commander and the beautiful and intelligent now disgraced run-away princess.

These two decide to do power siblings move and steal all your riches. And I will let them.

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lem-argentum · 6 months

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it’s prom.pto’s birthday tomorrow so i am thinking of him a lot right now…. i like that photographer he is special to me :’) <3

#lem text #📸 gold and bones <3 #aggfnjd beloved marksman.#it always makes me emotional thinking about how he definitely was never used to any fanfare being given to his birthday #but then after meeting noct n everyone he would know how it feels to have people who think you deserve to be celebrated.. aaafdkfndj TwT <3 #THERES THIS ONE FIC ABOUT THE LUCIS CAELUM FAMILY INVITING HIM TO CELEBRATE THE HOLIDAYS.WITG THEM #AND THEY WELCOME HIM SO OPENLY AND HE FEELS THW WARMTH OF BELONGING AND. AFKNDNFJKD!!!!!!!!!!/:!!!#that was UNRELATED to his birthday but whznfjd <333. the character :’) goodnight <3

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lilicannotfly · 7 months

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Mkay so I’m stupid and very tired but idea/explanation lols

this whole thing is set in Twisted Wonderland btw. Any world building past halfway through book 6 isn’t real. Most doesn’t exist really. I’m just bored lols.

also I think I’m at like s1 e22 of spy x family and book 6 chap 67 of twst so be be warned or something. Oh and spoilers for everything else ig

Dipper is still looking through the journals but they lead to King Andrias and his whole deal with the core, and over the course of the story Dipper and Mabel befriend Azul (he gets dragged in unwittingly it’s really silly.) Big Bunny Dean is there ’cause I thought it’d be funny if he bought partial ownership of the Mostro Lounge (I suppose he made an offer that Azul (and Jade because they seem to have joint ownership of it) couldn’t resist use your imagination I’m not that creative✨✨)

And then after the core is defeated, it’s discovered that Dipper and Mabel belong on Earth and not in twst (Oop) and someone up their family line acidentally got yoinked there and just…stayed. So maybe they’re born with a bit of magic? I forget how(if it’s even explained) magic manifests in twst but they might have it I dunno man I don’t make the rules. Maybe they decide to go to earth and that’s how Crowley gets dragged in to ‘trying’ to get them home to earth. Anyhow.

Okay okay okay so even stupider but every time I saw the fire for the culinary crucible I thought of Gordon Ramsey so what if Eden College students (with Prinviple Bump as a co-headmage at NRC because why tf not lols they definitely need ’im) visit NRC for the culinary crucible ‘cause it’s good to learn cooking when you’re young, and who better to teach ya than Ina Garten, Gorden Ramsey, and Martha Stewart(with Snoop Dogg thrown in as a treat?)? (And then watch it be the nastiest food you’ve ever tried LOLS) And stella stars/Demetrius bolts are given out based on your end score. (Scores work the same way as in the game it’s not even that deep)

idk I think it’d be silly I think it’d be goofy and fun :3

#my thoughts #twisted wonderland #spy x family #amphibia #fool’s gold #gravity falls #martha stewart #snoop dogg #gordon ramsay #ina garten #crack fic #kinda???#idk it’s not serious #please understand #it’s not so serious #Oh and also #the owl house

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non-un-topo · 1 year

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I don’t want to jinx it but I think I might have fixed this plot-hole

#apologies for my fic writing blogging omg you can blacklist this tag:#sage writes #or #fool's gold #and i'll try to be more consistent about tagging #this project feels like a big one and i'm getting excited over it so i've been spamming a lot about it ;_;#anyway YAAYYY!!!!#BUT i noticed i'm doing that thing again where i kind of write the same beginning formula...#like for example: queer quartet shows up in new place. they meet a woman who welcomes them and they all sit down and have dinner -#- with the rest of the locals. here the woman explains shit to them / they learn about the place and some Thing going on.#bonus points if they're drinking alcohol too.#i meean... every writer has a sort of story/formula they write over and over again right...? idk maybe only i'm noticing this -#- and it's not even a big deal. this one isn't really a mystery though. it has mysterious elements but regardless.#it's slightly more house of the dragon + oldschool ghibli inspired. like there's gonna be some family drama and grey morality.#if it does end up being really similar to all my other plotty fics i deeply apologize. and also plotty fics take a ton of effort!!#sometimes ideas subconsciously get repeated... but also i really like to incorporate the message / conflict of the movie into fics #so there's always a good chance some bozo is going to get greedy about immortality or power in my plotty fics #okie back to my doc before this caffeine wears off

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sweetums0kitty · 2 years

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The Ties that Bind me to Thee.

Hello friends, this is my first ever fanfic! I was so graciously pushed into writing it by @finniestoncrane! Who has graciously listened to me rant and rave about the Riddler and my idea to give him a sister!

There were many sounds that Edward hated with his entire heart and soul. One of them being the sniveling cries of the corrupt pigs he had brought to Justice as they begged for his mercy. Another was the metallic sound of sliverwear scraping a plate. Finally, at the top of his list would be a recent addition; the groans combined with the various inaudible whines Eleanor was currently making as she sat across from him in the visitation cell.

“Whyyyyy Eddieeeee?? Whyyyyyy” she bemoaned smudging her already destroyed eye makeup into a look that more resembled a raccoon. “Why would you flood the city, what the FUCK is wrong with you?” Edward broke out of his musings to look back up at his sister. He noted she had clearly defined tear tracks and a dribble of snot running from her near identical nose.

He slowly blinked and finally responded: “I was cleaning up Gotham, shining a light on the lies and corruption that came with Renewal he said oddly calm. I thought you understood what I was doing.” Rolling his eyes and letting out a frustrated huff as he finished. “I did it for us, for the other souls and victims lost to the deception and filth of this CESSP- Eleanor slammed her manicured hand on the glass that separated her from Edward with enough force to rattle the pane momentarily, startling him out of his ravings.

“DO you know how many times you have delivered this SAME dumb rant to me?” She fumed as rage colored her rounded cheeks a deep shade of pink and she set him with a harsh glare.

“Five times” Edward said with a sneer. He wanted to push her buttons now, if she couldn’t see what he was doing was right then he wasn’t going to play along with her. “That’s my highest guess” he smirked.

“I FUCKING WISH IT WAS FIVE” she bellowed more tears spilling from her deep green eyes. He giggled, she glared.

They were silent for a while, her hunched over with her face in her hands sobbing ferociously and Edward sitting observing her tears and beginning to feel the niggling worms of self doubt and guilt creep into his soul. Not because he felt remorse for initiating the grand cleansing of Gotham, no it was more so the fact that his baby sister crying her eyes out always had a way of thawing his icy heart.

In the moment he hadn’t a clue what to say, Ellie was always better at emotions. She easily made connections and was a social butterfly. And now, here she was less a butterfly and more a crushed up moth.

Releasing a cough from his throat Eddie tried to get her attention, unheard over her wailings he tried again with more force, still ignored he exhaled harshly and decided to attempt to get her attention for the final time.

Releasing a hacking that was more like a shout Eleanor shot up her head up and glared at her brother once more with enough force to melt the polar ice caps.

Edward felt the words he was going to say in attempt to comfort his sister die in his throat as her stare burned him.

Suddenly, she rose from her chair and for a brief flash Edward was scared she’d abandon him then and there. His deep eyes began to fill with tears as he flushed red. He tried to push himself against the glass as far as his chains and collar would allow. “Ellie I’m sorry okay!” Edward screamed watching her form retreat from him as he began to panic. “She was going to abandon him, just like Batman had, just like Gotham abandoned them as children, the exact same way they were tossed aside by their parents. Panic settled deep into Edward’s chest.

“PLEASE ELLIE! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME HERE!” He sobbed as the cuffs around his wrists dug painfully into his flesh. He didn’t care, panic had turned him into a wild animal. A barrage of self loathing washed over him as more tears flowed out his eyes.

Suddenly, she turned around looking so incredibly tired. “God, he looks so… broken” Eleanor crinkled her nose at the thought and once again placed herself back into the uncomfortable chair with a deep sigh. Edward made no moves to sit down as his heart slammed in panic and his breathing got harder and harder. “You’re having a panic attack you stupid fucking loser, you think for one second your sister is gonna abandon you and you break down like a goddamn worthless little baby.” His mind screamed at him.

In the midst of his spiraling panic, like a hot knife going through butter Eleanor called: “Eddie, hey I need you to look at me okay. She said in a gentle motherly tone. His mind whirled, he felt sick and still he slowly looked back into her identical eyes. “That’s it! Elenor beamed” and Edward felt the storm in him begin to subside. “Can you take a deep breathe in with me?” “Eddie shook his head, his lungs felt like they were full of molten lead and bits of jagged glass. “I need my inhaler, he croaked” “Okay! Okay, I can do that, it’s gonna be fine! You’re gonna be fine, it’s fine! It was then Eleanor’s turn to panic. She once again shot up and rushed around looking for a call button to help him. Finally finding one she pressed it with enough force to shatter the button.

After pressing it once she waited and waited. Edward let out a miserable string of wheezes “Slamming the button again Eleanor began to fume. “What the hell is taking them So LONG?” She crossed her arms over her chest and began to tap her foot impatiently. “Edward rasped “It’s a facility operated by the city” he coughed harder this time. She balled her hand into a fist and began to pound on the button.

“SLAM” “BUZZ” “SLAM” “BUZZ” “SLAM” “BUZZ” “SLAM” “BUZZZZZZZ” “SLAM” “BUZ-“ Finally a bored looking attendant and a giggly guard sauntered in. Their eyes were blown out and reddened clearly having just take a hit of Drops. “What do you want the attendant said raking his bloodshot eyes over Eleanor’s body. She shuddered, an almost invisible gesture to anyone except her brother. “Ed felt rage settle into his chest, dwarfed by his current asthma attack but still palpable. “Is the freak over there the guard lazily jammed his thumb over in Edwards vague direction giving you trouble?”

“”That freak”” Eleanor spat between gritted teeth trying desperately to maintain her composure “Is my brother and if you would like I dunno… “ she said twirling a curled bang around her long finger pulling the two oblivious Dropheads into her web. “Want to do your fucking jobs!” she screeched! Face Turing a bright crimson “And PUH-LEASE go get my brother his inhaler, he’s having a pretty nasty asthma attack and you know I would just love it if he didn’t choke to death on his own lungs! M’kay!” She tilted her head to the side and shot a threatening grin at the pair.

The Guard and Attendant started to snicker, “Yeah yeah sure sweet-cheeks I’ll go get him his inhaler, but what are you gonna do for us?” The Attendant leered right at her chest. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you, you fucking loser I’m not going to take my heel and cram it so far up your ass that you’ll be tasting shoe leather for the rest of your life!”

“Fucking fine bitch, I could do better than your ugly ass anyway! Crazy slut! The Attendant snapped, his dim witted friend broke out into a fit of laughter and followed him out of the door. But not before the twins heard the attendant slap the guard in the back of the head. Ellie giggled and then rushed back to to sitting in front of her brother, Edward had regained his breathing but was still huffing and wheezing like an old steam engine.

“Those two sure were charming Eleanor mused with a snort.” She sent a worried smile towards her brother. Edward wheezed out “Oh yeah, a couple of real pals” he spit out bitterly. She sighed and pulled the creaky old chair closer to the pane in front of them. Leaned her forehead against the glass and stared hard at him. “Are you gonna be okay in here without me Eddie-Bear?” Eleanor said in a whisper. “Oh please don’t call me that in here!” he rasped with a groan. They fell back into silence as Ellie once again started to cry. The attendant finally returned and all but pelted Edward with his inhaler, it thunked against the glass and Ellie shot her head up and glared at the man so hard that if she could her stare alone would have killed him on the spot.

Edward sighed and kicked his foot out to begin to drag the inhaler over to himself. Dragging the green tube a smidge closer. The Attendant was watching the display with sick glee and Eleanor slammed her hand on the glass once again and yelled at him “Do your job you loser!” “I’m fine Elle, I’ve almost got it.” Edward said tiredly. Finally the attendant waltzed over and picked up the inhaler and handed it to the Edward and he took a deep puff from the canister. Waited for a moment and then took another, shorter inhale until his breathing returned to normal and he took a deep breath in and let out slightly shaky but strong. He then took a deep breath in and exhaled through his nose and rubbed a hand over his weary face. “You and I both know we’ve been through much worse than this.” He said handing the inhaler back to the attendant. “Man I think you should keep that thing on you. The kid said rubbing the back his neck. Apparently it says in the rule book that you’re allowed to have it or whatever. Just don’t give it to one of the junkies okay?

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Edward responded blankly, pocketing the canister. At that the Attendant left the room and once more Eleanor and him were left in relative isolation. Silence fell over the pair once more and this time Edward took the step to break it. “Why are you so worried all of sudden? You knew what I was going to be achieving. He was trying to remain calm and keep his tone as even as possible. The role of emotional support sibling fitting him about as well as his old choir uniform would fit if he tired it on today.

“I just…” she paused, a twinge of fear colored the deep breathe Eleanor took in. “Thought you were the one who had it together, y’know?” Edward quirked an eyebrow in response and let out a quiet snort. Eleanor rolled her eyes and huffed “Aside from the online terrorist group and the death traps with rats that eat peoples faces off. I mean” she finished. “How are my rats by the way? I was worried those pigs would have killed them or simply dumped them back in the streets.” Edward said sadly. “You don’t need to worry about them Eddie, I took em all in, they’re hanging out in a new cage at my place! I got them the cutest little rat safe furniture on Etsy, oh my god they’re gonna be living it up in style! She beamed with a flourish of her hands.

They looked at each other and started laughing, warmth filling their chests. “Oh shit! Eleanor said wiping her eyes, I got a bunch of tears stuck in my contact, fucks sake gimme a second. She squinted her right eye and placed some strawberry scented hands sanitizer onto her hands. Then proceeded to dig around her eyeball to release the well of tears and restore her vision. Edward laughed a little harder and scolded in a relaxed tone “Now, now Eleanor what would Sister Mary Sabrina say if she saw you now, behaving so unladylike?” He giggled at the end of it. Ellie having finally retched the pent up tears from her eyes swiftly and expertly popped the contact back into her eyeball and looked back at Edward’s smirking face. His eyes shining with playfulness. Eleanor rolled her eyes and said gruffly “Like I give a fuck what the old twat thinks about me.” Edward laughed once more waiting for the rant that he himself had heard time and time again. “I swear to God Ellie groaned that woman got off on torturing me! I don’t even know what her deal was, she was always going on and on and on-“ it was at this point Edward joined in on her rant knowing exactly what she would say next “About how all she wanted was to make the world pretty, but if she wanted the world to be pretty why was the Orphanage such a shithole then?“ he mimicked in high pitched feminine voice at the same time Eleanor ranted.

“I guess you’ve heard this song and dance before huh?” Eleanor said rubbing her neck sheepishly. “Oh only about five times or so” her brother said with a quiet laugh looking to the floor with a soft smile“ “Touché Eddie-Bear!” Eleanor said directing a pair of finger guns at him as she laughed. He smiled “I guess we should finally talk business Edward sighed.” Looking straight at Ellie. “Yeah I guess she rolled her eyes with a frown. I talked to your lawyer, he and I discussed she said slowly. Edward was beginning to grow annoyed with her cloying tone “and you’re not going to like this but he and I think… you should give me Power of Attorney while you’re in here.

Edward pursed his lips and glared at her to continue.

She raised her hands in front of her chest in a gesture of peace. “It’s just while you’re stuck in here and you’ll get to be in charge again as soon as you get out and I do not mean breakout! I know exactly what you’re thinking Edward Joseph Nashton!” She snapped pointing a manicured finger right at his chest. Edward exaggeratedly rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses further up his nose “So many pesky little rules and regulations. Why does anyone even think to follow them?” He grumbled as he picked at the skin around his nail beds.

“I dunno broski, Eleanor said with a tired sigh maybe so we all don’t flood the city when we’re feeling grumpy.” She stared at him with an unamused glower. Edward scoffed. “It really wasn’t that bad, people are getting so frenzied by a little water. He said in a manic tone. “The fireworks going off were such a pretty sight to see! He giggled” Forest green eyes swirling with madness. “Yeah no it was realllly great!”Eleanor said words dripping with sarcasm. “Except for that one part. Hmmmm lemme see if I can recall what it was… Eleanor mused in a mocking tone, pursing her lips and tapping a sparkly finger nail onto her chin. Edward still lost in his self aggrandizing delusions was snickering up a storm until Ellie’s shrill screech of “THAT’S IT!” and a snap of her fingers brought him back to reality and he jumped and looked her once more.

“The only part of your “grand plan” I didn’t like was that bit where one of your goons almost shot me, multiple times!” Beaming at him with a sardonic grin. “Hmph, I expressly told you to get out of the city sister dear. It’s not my fault you can’t follow simple instructions. Eleanor let out a noise of indignation and continued to glare at her brother as her cheeks began to turn a ruddy shade of crimson.

Crossing his arms over his chest as the chains of his chuffs rattled, Edward turned his head away from Eleanor and pointed his nose up haughty. “I give her a riddle so simple a toddler could solve it and she doesn’t even try to figure it out! She never even listens to me or takes any interest in what I care about.” He thought darkly, turning his head down to his chest. Sinking into the swirling sea of despair that was his mind. Feelings of isolation and anger sloshed over him like waves during a hurricane. He was stuck in a flimsy life boat of self loathing. Until, suddenly he was harshly brought back to reality by the fierce tapping on the glass like a child choosing a goldfish at the pet store and Eleanor’s cries of “Hey! Earth to Eddie, you in there at all? Come on Dorkzilla don’t die on me now! I’m not done with you yet!”

He blinked dumbly as he returned to reality “Oh you’re still here.” he sniffed dismissively. “Of course I am dumbass! I’m not letting you have the last word on your stupid riddle!” She retaliated. “Edward rolled his eyes as he turned to look at her expectantly. “ Eleanor stared back at him blankly, the only things telling of her ever growing rage being the blush that covered her cheeks that was beginning to turn purple with fury and the way her mouth was permanently etched into a scowl. Letting out a quiet breathy laugh, Edward smiled to himself knowing he had won their little spat and had finally managed to push Eleanor to the peak of her carefully contained rage.

“I know what you’re trying to do” she gritted through her teeth.” Edward remained silent and only quirked an eyebrow in response. “You’re trying to push me away so you can sink into one of your stupid pity parties. It’s not gonna work, I’m all you got so you’re not pushing me away this time! Ellie choked out. Taking a very deep breath in she managed to steady herself seemingly and pushed a hand through her already ragged hair. She fixed her gaze on Eddie and he felt a fresh wave of guilt hit him. “That’s not at all what I’m doing.” He said defensively but all she responded with was a stare that saw right through him. Edward grumbled and they sat staring at each other.

Finally, Eleanor quipped “I’m still so lost on how a riddle about an elephant you texted me 5 minutes before you got arrested was supposed to tell me to get out of the city and not go to the Garden.”

“Like it would have been so much easier if you just said “Hey sis, hope you’re feeling okay today! I love you so much! BTW I’m going to flood the city and you should get the hell out of dodge. Oh also! Don’t go to Gotham City Gardens when it floods! My buddies from my stream will be there and you will TOTES get shot 🙈🙊🙉” XoX- Eddie Bear.”

Eleanor finished with giant inhale and Edward jokingly offered her the inhaler from his jumpsuit pocket. “Nah keep it.” She smiled sadly at him.

Edward laughed “Well first of all, I didn’t just text you” he punctuated his words with air-quotes. “Because it wouldn’t have been on brand. I’m the Riddler, Ellie I tend to Riddle.” They shared a quick laugh and he continued “Secondly, even if I did text you, the police still would have confiscated my phone and that would have been a confession. I wanted to go out my way, on my terms.” Puffing his chest as he spoke. “Finally, tone softening as he spoke “ The answer was Noah’s Ark.” he stated simply sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. Playful smirk on his lips.

“God, Eddie! That’s the worst riddle you could have tried, I would not have connected those dots!” Eleanor groaned placing her hands on her face and dragging them down. “Do you know how many contexts there are for elephants! Especially considering the last conversation we had over text was how we should go to the zoo again?” A fit of giggles breaking through the words. Edward shut his eyes as the tips of his ears began to turn pink. “I had forgotten about that.” He said reopening his eyes, a sheepish smile on his face. Rubbing the back of his neck he sighed and went on “I think I should be forgiven for that one, especially considering the pressure I was under at the time I sent it to you.”

“I mean no shit, but like yeah it was a real stinker.” It was then Edward’s turn to giggle. Eleanor groaned once again, “I’m just not ready to be the sibling who has their shit together.” She leaned back in the chair letting her head hang over the backrest of the dingy plastic seat. Sandy brown hair just smidge closer to blonde than Edward’s fluttered behind her.

They’ve gone back to silence now. Eleanor seemingly lost in thought with a quirked frown on her lips. “What are you thinking Ellie-Jelly?” Edward said quietly, internally cringing at the childish nickname. “Hmm”she said in a dazed tone. “I’m not really thinking right now, I’m just kind of sad.” “Well yes I can see that. Edward said with a small laugh.”

“Don’t laugh at me right now I’m serious!” She said sitting upright. “Alright, alright I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it.” Raising his hands in defense, shutting his eyes and smiling at her. “Like, I’m just wondering if it’s my fault we turned out like this?” She sighed gesturing between herself and Edward. When she was met with a confused stare she continued: “Just what if you weren’t stuck with me when we were kids or if I stuck by your side more and I was always out chasing a way to feel less alone. Would we have been healthy?” The outer corners of her eyes crinkling in sadness.

“I mean I was clinging to you just as hard when we were little. Do you remember when we we’re 7 and you had to talk for me?” He said softly, pressing a hand to the glass in an attempt to offer his sister some form of affection or comfort.

Eleanor snorted in response “Yeah that’s only because I was smothering you.” Mumbling out the response.

“No you weren’t” Edward said firmly. “I asked you to do it and The Nuns considered it an affront to masculinity and that suffering would bring me peace.” “It didn’t” he spat out with a scowl “But like you said pointing at Eleanor as he spoke “They got off on torturing kids, especially us for some godforsaken reason!”

“But what abou-“ Ellie has started to say but she was quickly cut off by her brother. “Doesn’t matter, not your fault. I’d rather you tried to be happy instead of hanging around me! I could stand on my own two feet then, I can do it now. I really would rather you try and find some semblance of joy than hang back with me.” He said simply with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I should have done more for you! For us, we should have left this shit hole town a million years ago!” She wailed scrunching up her face in despair.

“Eleanor Bridget Nashton” Edward sighed tiredly, “You didn’t do anything, I didn’t do anything, nobody who was a victim of the corruption did anything to deserve what happened to them. Yes we could have left, but if we did I never would have done what I needed to do!” “My life’s purpose, I would have been aimless without the Riddler.”

“BUT YOU WOULDN’T BE LOCKED UP IN HERE!” She screamed, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “I just want you to be happy.” She huffed out. “I know that and I am. Obviously not happy about incarceration, but I’m happy you’re still here. He smiled softy at her and Eleanor huffed. “Okay fine, you’re happy. That’s great to hear.”

“Hey,” a shaky voice let out both people in the room turned to look and a timid looking attendant had appeared in the room. “I- it’s just visitation hours are almost over and you have to leave soon Miss” the young woman quickly spit out.

“Alright, I’ll be done soon.” Edward said quietly. “Oh! Okay, I’ll be right outside to walk you out when you’re done. She squeaked at Eleanor and quickly dashed out of the room before Eleanor could respond. “Well she certainly is cute.” Ellie smirked. “Ugh please don’t” Edward crinkled his nose in disgust. “I thought you wanted to see me happy Eddie?!?” Eleanor asked mock hurt dripping from her voice. “I do, I just don’t want to see you happy with the nurse who’s in charge of the rectal doses.” “Eh, I’ll give her a rectal dose.” She cackled. “Seriously? Edward gagged, “you’re so disgusting sometimes.” Edward said fondly as he rolled his eyes.

Anyway, I thought about it a little more and you’re right. I can’t really do much with my assets in here and you can control what does and doesn’t get out Ellie.” He said casually. Looking his sister in the eyes with a small smile.

“You really don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable.” Eleanor said shyly.

“No I’m fine with it, really.” “Okay then! I’ll get the paperwork together and you and I can sign it next time I come visit you!” she said as she clapped her hands with joy. With that she stood from the plastic chair and stretched her arms over her head. “Ugh, I’m getting old!” Eleanor bemoaned popping her joints. She finally placed her jacked back onto her shoulders and picked up her purse. She looked up to see the attendants starting to uncuff Edward and lead him back to his cell.

“You sure you’ll be okay in here Eddie?” Eleanor asked sadly. He stretched out his limbs, rubbing at his wrists and smiled at her. “Remember Elle, we’ve been through worse.” He called as the Arkham staff lead him from the visitation cell.

“Okay.” She said to no one in particular already missing Edward’s presence, once again feeling the looming sense of dread and loneliness wash over her. She walked from the room to where the nurse was waiting. As Eleanor left Arkham she released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding onto and walked to her waiting car. Worries for her brother and the future swirling about in her head.

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daffodilsonaprettystring · 1 year

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I’m just gonna keep spamming my Titanic Wolfstar and nobody can stop me (this is again specific to my fic not just in general Titanic hehehehhe)

#wolfstar #marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar titanic au #this is based off that one Romeo and Juliet painting #yknow the one #with the hands and shit #idk I thought it looked cool lmao #LITTLE DETAILS:#Sirius Reg and (barf) Walburger all wearing a family ring #the heart of the ocean (which has a different name in my fic)#(since yknow it’s fictional gem so I can change it mwahaha)#anyway the Heart is gold to match Remus’s eyes #Remus scars❤️#the spiral background with color coded sides #darker for Sirius lighter for Remus #which was on purpose hehehe #✨symbolism✨

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autumn-grace · 10 months

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The Lingering Pain of Empty Hands 2/10

Part One here.

Summery: In 1793 Benedict goes missing at a fair. Twenty years later Eloise keeps running into the same man while investigating the case of one famous Lady Whistledown.

A story exploring the complexities of loss.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, lyrics etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author Note: This is the first time I post a story on Tumblr. I have a very small idea of what I am doing. How do I string chapter posts together?

In regards to the story, Edmund lives a little longer in this story. Well everything is a bit different, so. Yes. Have fun reading.

Warnings: character death, mention of physical abuse towards children,

Chapter two: A ghost haunting hollow heart

Rating: M

Length: 5.6k

[@hopepaigeturner]

Mayfair

Eloise did not plan to visit her father as she walked down the hall towards the library, however when she passed his rooms, she stopped and felt very drawn to do so. She leaned close to the door and listened for a second, then gave it a careful knock.

“Yes?”

She smiled as she nodded to herself and opened the door.

“Eloise, come in, come in.”

Her father sat propped up in his bed. A little table stood over his legs, a book laid on it and a stag of letters, a closed ink jar. He looked much better today than on any other day in the last couple of weeks. She came to his side and leaned down to kiss his cheek, resting her hands on his shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze.

As she sat down on the chair beside the bed she remembered how once she had sat on those shoulders, truly fascinated by the view it offered to her little eyes. These days an empty rucksack could force him to his knees.

“I heard of your little escape last night...” He began before she could think of any chit chat to share with him, or the last book she read.

She let herself fall back into the chair, her elbow landed on the armrest, only for her head to sink into her hand. She shook her head. “One can trust nobody in this house,” she muttered, shifting so she could cross her legs. Giving the room a quick check to make sure her mother did not hide somewhere, ready to chastise her for her unladylike posture.

“My darling, I fear there is nothing I can say to convince you of the dangers you expose yourself to, is there? Need I inform Anthony and Colin of your actions so they can hold guard in front of your room?”

“There is always,” she fake-coughs and said “the window.”

“And there is,” he actually coughed before finishing, rather out of breath, “a brother for the door and one for the garden.”

She frowned as she watched his face contort in pain. Knowing how much he disliked it being mentioned, she tried thoughtlessly to make a joke as soon as he had somewhat collected himself. “You forget that there are two doors to my room, beside the window.”

The Viscount closed his eyes, the line of his jaw trembled with emotions and Eloise instantly regretted her words as he nodded. She inhaled deeply and reached out to lie her hand on her father's. “I apologise.” Usually she had the walking on eggshells down to an art regarding her lost brother, “It was foolish of me to speak so loosely. Please, think of something else. Tell me instead how dangerous the streets are for a woman like me.” She tried to smile as she said it.

The Viscount swallowed and there was another cough wrecking him. But he did not look at her again but towards the window. “It is not your fault, El. My thoughts went to him the moment I became aware of my own words.” His trembling hand went to lay over his heart as he breathed. It looked physically demanding. Her father had spent so much of his life in search of her brother, it had eventually strained his heart so profoundly, weakened his body so thoroughly, it rendered him bedridden.

Since Eloise could think, her parents lived with a ghost haunting the hollow part of their hearts.

Her brother, the missing letter, the missing child. She never got to meet him, he was but an idea she simply never grasped. There was information missing and no matter how thoroughly she studied the little evidence of his existence, how much she tried to make herself understand and feel his absence, she could not find within herself the right tools. Yet the emotional carnage his few years of life in this family left behind, oh that was very much a battlefield to navigate. She had, all of them had, learned to do that as if it was a physical thing, a hole in the ground which had the shape of their brother.

“The reason I ventured to the streets was very important....” She began, and picked imaginary lint from her dress.

“You know that I took him out when it happened.” Eloise was startled into stopping her sentence. She held her breath and her body entirely still, afraid that if she reminded her father of her presence, he would stop his story, as always. “Anthony was with Aunt Ginny and the nursemaid looked after Colin and Daphne. But it was impossible to separate Benedict from your mother. I insisted so vehemently. I was convinced your mother needed some time to rest... and it was such a nice day too, warm and sunny and just a little wind. I plucked him from the bed and he screamed bloody murder as I carried him from the room and Violet, she called after me to leave him be, that she was happy to spend her time with him.

“I wrestled him into his shoes myself while his fists drummed on my back. He was so unhappy with having to go. Sometimes, El, sometimes I think he knew, somewhere deep in his heart he knew I would take him away from home only for him to never be able to return again.

“And just think what that did to Violet, well, we both know what it did... her last memory of her darling boy being me carrying him away, crying and screaming for her...”

“Papa.” Eloise knew not what to say. Nobody talked about what happened, never. This was all brand new to her, and it shook her.

“I don't even know how it happened. We were waiting in line to buy flowers for Violet, he insisted we bring her some. He was standing right against my side, his fingers curled into my coat and I had my hand in his hair and if I had just not convinced myself he was too old for it, I would have taken him up.

“A cat brushed up against our legs and I warned him not to touch it but he had already hunched down and I lost physical contact with him. From the corner of my eye I saw him take a few steps after the animal. I watched him do it. He was still in reach. Next I know I turned around to take his hand, it was an urge in my soul to take it but he was gone. The people in line behind me, too.”

Eloise felt her lower lip begin to tremble, mostly because she saw tears gathering in her father's eyes. “It has been twenty years and the urge is still there.” His voice gave in on the last few words. She saw his free hand curl into a fist and a tremor taking hold of it.

“I cannot imagine...” she whispered, her voice raspy.

His inhales became heavy and his exhale short wet huffs. “I think,” his voice was strangled and she switched from his chair to the edge of the bed. “I think I need to rest.” She cupped the side of his face and nodded.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Papa.” He tried to smile through his laboured breathing. “It means a lot to me.” She reached to his bedside table and rang for his nurse. Only when she came did she retreat from the room and she waited in front of his door until she heard nothing but the nurse quietly doing her tasks.

She wished greatly for Penelope to listen to her repeating her father's words. She felt so full with the sorrow his words carried and she needed to share them. But after ending her friendship with Theo, her friendship with Penelope now lay in ruins as well.

It had been a week now and the anger had mostly ceased. Frustration and hurt had replaced it. And it made her only feel more alone for it. Shame too was lingering at the edges for being so unforthcoming in the method with which she had operated at finding the truth. But she wanted not to think of it, it jerked her spirit into frustration.

With Anthony and Kate preparing a wedding and constantly running errands, and her father not able to enter it in months now, she used the chance and dipped into the study. Behind the most boring print of an agriculture machine she found what she knew to find there. A wooden box, unlocked. She placed it on the thick carpet in front of her feet and took place behind it.

In it a collection of the evidence of her brother's life. A birth certificate, the newspaper that announced his birth, a drawing of him as a baby on their mother's lap. (How young she was. Eloise could not believe that in this she was just three years older than Eloise was today. She smiled a bit.) A lot of letters in celebration of his birth. And then three unopened ones, Benedict was their recipient, Anthony the sender. There was another drawing of Anthony and Benedict. Dried flowers, which she always handled most delicately. She knew not what they signified. And then there were reports from the constable, from private dedectives, from solisitors. And there were notebooks, a lot of them, filled with desperate scribblings of her father, of hope and vague evidence of his possible whereabouts. Names and more names and lines upon lines of nonsense. Loose parchments stuffed between empty pages. Ripped edges.

For almost ten years he had firmly believed he could find Benedict. Then, longer intervals between entries in the years after, only a few lines in neat handwriting. Question marks.

<em>Where are you?</em> Spaced out over two pages.

And then, and she had never dared to look closer, to read the lines written. Little ideas of what could have been:

-ran after the cat,

-fell on his head,

-forgot his name,

-a childless couple took him in and spoiled him rotten.

Variations of that. Dreams of a good life. Hope. And then, she had never understood it until today. It made sense now. He imagined the day if it had went differently:

-i go to the fair alone,

-i bring flowers,

-benedict still plays on the foot of the bed when I return,

-Violet is much better, her headache almost gone and she smiles as I enter,

-Benedict jumps from the bed and takes my hand and draws me to sit down on his side

Eloise desperately wished she could travel to that point in time. Get in line behind her brother and father and see to his safety.

If there was only a way to eliminate all that dreadful pain.

She looked at all of it for a while, spread out before her. A little bit of life and its dire consequences, stitched carefully together by love and longing. For the first time she explored the feelings it ignited in her body and wondered if it was possible to miss something one never knew.

Eventually she gathered everything back into the box and she placed it carefully into its hiding-spot. She pushed her head out of the door-frame and she looked left and right and slipped out into the hall. Wondered if Fran was already home, she jumped towards the staircase, trying not to step on any ridges. Two stairs at a time were most unladylike but who was she to care? She smiled brightly as she turned the corner and up the next flight.

Her feet popped into sight on eye-level.

Her mother.

“He did not tell you, did he?” She rolled her eyes and looked up, expecting her stern expression to focus in on her. Truly, no secret was safe in this house.

What she found, however, was a hundred times worse. Fear snatched away her breath as she looked into the empty eyes of her mother. And then she said the words translating the emptiness right into senseless meaning.

“Your father is dead.”

Four months later

Eloise took a deep, deep breath of London air. It was disgusting air, but it smelled more like freedom than fresh Kent air ever could. Donning her hood, she looked over her shoulder to make sure nobody followed her and began her fast pace away from Bridgerton House and Gosnove Square.

She left the house in order to find a little gift for her mother. With aching determination she squared her jaw and nodded to herself. There had to be a way to get her mother talking again. “Your father is dead,” the last words that crossed her lips had shattered not only Eloise's heart, surely it had broken her own, too.

Factually, Eloise understood. Practically, her skin itched with the utter helplessness with which she had to make so close acquaintance these last couple of months. And not only her, all her siblings as well. The only time any of them was able to coax something akin to a reaction from her was Anthony when he told the room in which she sat that they had, naturally, postponed the wedding. Violet had raised her head then and had looked at him.

Anthony had left the room, white as a ghost. Kate, Daphne, Colin, Fran and her stood waiting for him and he only shook his head and shrugged at the same time. The tears in his eyes he was able to blink away remained unshed.

In that moment, Eloise had felt something other than despair for the first time in two weeks. She was angry with her mother. They were supposed to mourn their father, they needed to be together and honour the pain and make it at least the tiniest bit easier to bear by sticking together. All they did, day by day, was keep guard over their mother. Well and being there for Hy and Gregory, well, mostly Hy. Gregory pretended that nothing hurt him and all was good, which obviously was a lie. Colin took him on day trips and long walks, hoping he would eventually open up. In a few days they would leave for Wales.

While she planned to take a cap as soon as she was out of sight from any window of Bridgerton House, somehow her feet and her thoughts carried her to the borders of Mayfair.

Bloomsbury markets sold the most interesting and contemporary art. She hoped to find a print or an illustrated book on new and exotic flowers. She would come here every day and find something if it only meant her mother would crawl out of that dark melancholy that had taken a firm and petrifying hold of her.

A month or so after his death, Eloise had tried the same thing. She sat down beside her and started talking to her. She did that a few days in a row and then on day four, as she entered, Violet had stood up and left the room. That day Eloise cried all afternoon and evening until Daphne came and made her drink some water, one glass after the other. Had told her it was so she had new tears to cry but somehow she ended up in her sister’s arms where she had fallen right to sleep.

This time, Eloise was prepared. If it happened, she would simply follow her. If her reaction was anger, well then that was a big step forward.

Hyacinth needed a hug from her mother and Eloise would get her one.

Eloise inspected her list as she brushed along the stalls. A new notepad for herself. A new brush for Fran, if she could find ones here. A book, or a print, or a drawing, or a shiny stone for her mother. She had so far found a carved dog for Augie. So distracted was she that she did not notice how her dress was picked up by a piece of sharp metal protruding from a stall. But she heard the rip happening in the perfect sound of a ruined trip.

Turning in surprise, she made it worse by ripping the fabric away from its entanglement. Under her breath she cursed and folded the upper layer of her dress up for her to inspect the damage. “Oh no, oh no, oh no...” she huffed in frustration. Now she needed to tell Miss Oliver and she would surely tell Mrs. Nathanson, and then Anthony would know and he would roll his eyes and ask her to behave like a grown woman and for the love of god not leave the house without a chaperon. Did they seriously need to bind her to a chair! She heard his words in her head.

London suddenly smelled a lot less like freedom.

“Miss, are you alright?” She whirled around and a sharp word lay on her tongue but then she gathered herself.

In front of her stood a young woman with three children on and around her. One bound to her chest, one to her back and an older boy held her hand.

“Of course, thank you very much for your concern.” She wanted to turn away and be angry for a little longer and probably have that anger make bad decisions for her, like leaving without buying a present, but somehow, the woman smiling at her, glued her to the spot.

She was a good half head smaller than her. Her blonde hair braided and tucked up into itself. Her features were warm and kind and her eyes an exceptional shade of green. The little boy holding her hand watched her with interest and the very same eyes.

“Good. Because you looked very much distressed. I thought you might have hurt yourself.”

“I am not supposed to be here and now I am sure my brother will learn of this...” She blabbered, suddenly glad to voice her frustration. For emphasis, she threw the fabric in her hand away with a little bit of force.

“I can mend it for you.” She offered, tilting her head somewhat and smiled.

“Excuse me?”

“We live but a ten minute walk from here. Well perhaps fifteen depending on this one's nag for exploring. But in any case, mending it will take but a moment and then you have a bit of time to make up your own excuses to your brother, shall you need to.”

A little head poked around over her shoulder at that moment, two tired eyes now studying her, almost confused. The woman's head turned to the side. “Good morning, sweetheart.” She kissed his cheek and the child pressed his head into the mother's. “Have you had a good nap?” He nodded and then buried his face in the crook of her shoulder.

“What say you?” She turned her attention back to her and Eloise shook herself from her strange thoughts. That child's eyes looked so eerily familiar. Her subconscious had fed her a suddenly visceral memory of a little Hyacinth sitting in front of her, watching her intently while trying to stuff her thick dark looks back into her bonnet. She remembered her father stepping behind her, loosening the tie under her chin. It was a staring contest and Hyacinth won it even though father had tied her bonnet new and shook her head in the process, tucking at her hair.

And there it was, a lot of sadness arrived in her chest.

“Well. Why not.” She nodded and swallowed, ripped her eyes wide open to dispense of the excess of water in her eyes.

“My name is Sophie,” the other woman smiled then.

“I am Eloise.”

Eloise learned that Charles usually talked a mile a minute, which his unusual shyness prevented him from, it also prevented him from stopping every two hundred yards to pick up a stone or a stick or a flower on the side of the street, or in fact a question which was impossible to answer.

She also learned that the littlest one was William, born only eight weeks ago and the best sleeper between the five of them. As long as he was fed and clean nothing disturbed him. If his brothers were running screaming circles around him and the neighbours kicked their broomstick against their ceiling, William slept.

They had almost reached the second floor where they lived when Charles finally warmed up to her presence. He turned around to her as they climbed the stairs. “Do you have brothers?” He asked.

“Oh, yes indeed. I even have sisters. Three of each.”

His little mouth formed in an o and she grinned. “Are you the oldest, too?” He followed up and let his hand slip from his mother's as she unlocked the door.

“No. I am right in the middle.”

“Like Alex!” He exclaimed and as his name fell, he craned his neck from the sling he was confined in. She waved at him and he smiled very shily, his cheeks turning red. He was distracted and turned his head when the door to the flat opened and they went in.

They stepped right into a small room with a sofa, a small rug, a table, four chairs, a dresser and a cocking-oven. One door led to another room, she assumed it had to be the bedchambers and the wet-room.

Fascinated, Eloise watched as Sophie first let Alexander free and watched as he confidently slid down his mother's back while she held onto the support until his feet hit the ground. The woman visibly grew in front of her, rolling her shoulders and stretching her neck.

“Do you mind me feeding this one first? He is waking up, I am afraid.” She turned to her. Eloise made an expensive hand gesture and rolled her eyes a bit and mixed it with a smile just for good measure. “Of course.”

A glint of something humorous woke in Sophie's eyes and she smiled, too. “I will put water on the stove for tea.”

“I will-” Eloise looked around, spotted the two boys who had sat beside a wicker basket in front of the window. Between them they gathered wooden toys. “-see what the boys are up to.”

Sliding down on the floor beside them, Charles instantly began to talk: “We are building a forest, we have-” He picked up wooden blocks on which trees had been drawn, “-trees. And-” he picked up similar blocks with different animals coloured on them, “dears and bores and here, look!!” he shoved an actually carved hare into her hands.

“How nice,” she took a closer look. These were very nice drawings.

“Mrs. Light from next door gave it to us. She has several from her grandson who is 10 and will not play with them any more. But she will not give them to us all at once.”

“I see.” She turned the hare in her hands. “I am sure you are excited to receive the rest?” She wondered even though the answer was evident.

“Oh, yes. My birthday comes soon and I…” he whispered the last part, “secretly hope I will get another one.” And then his tone lifted again. “This one we got when Will was born, because we behaved so well.”

“And the rest, did you make them yourself?”

“Oh no. Of course not, we are children!” his hand fell to his forehead in an exaggerated show and Eloise bit the inside of her cheek so she would not laugh. “Papa made them.”

“That makes sense,” she put the figurines to the rest .

“Papa made us a forest,” it was the first time Alex contributed something to the conversation. Eloise turned her attention to him, lowered her head a bit and smiled encouragingly.

“He indeed did,” she nudged his cheek with her finger. “Which one is your favourite?”

“Oh he doesn't mean that. He means the big drawing, in the sleeping-room.” Alex nodded excitingly to his brother's explanation. “Can we show Miss. Eloise, Mama?”

Both boys turned to their mother, who had sat down in the single armchair in the corner.

“I guess it should be alright,” she smiled, only shortly looking up from watching her baby suckle. His little hand was grabbing her finger and she softly swayed the hand from side to side.

Eloise had never seen something like this before. She found it infinitely too intimate to watch and perhaps that was the reason she could not look away. While her mother prided herself for having nursed all of her babies, it had always happened behind closed doors. And here, this woman just did it in front of a stranger as well as her sons. It was hard pulling her gaze away even though she was painfully aware of how rude it was.

However, the two boys were already standing up and Alex was the one who grabbed her wrist to pull her up. Only then did she turn her eyes away from the nursing mother. “I am coming, I am coming!” she exasperated and laughed as Charles jumped in excitement towards the door.

And then Eloise entered what she believed to be the bedchambers. It was in fact a single room, even smaller than the living area with one bed that filled almost the entire space. She looked around in case she missed a door but no. She swallowed. There wasn't a crib for the baby either or another smaller bed. It was just this bed which was as big as her own at home.

On the mantelpiece of the narrow fireplace stood a canvas. It wasn't framed or hung. It just leaned there.

“You can take it down!” Charles called.

“No!” Sophie's voice called from the other room. “It stays where it is.”

“Oh...” Charles' shoulders sacked. Alex lifted his hands up towards her. And she was irritated for a moment.

“You want me to hold you?” She asked and he nodded. “Please,” he added in his sweet little voice. She could not remember when she last held a child. Did she ever?

Charles in the meanwhile, got out of his shoes and was now climbing onto the bed.

She packed the boy under his arms and pulled him up to her side. A huff left her lungs. She had never imagined children to be so heavy! And Sophie had carried him for the whole walk and up all those stairs. “Do your parents feed you stones!” She joked and Alex looked at her, questions in his eyes. “No, only milk and porridge and vegetables.”

“And soup,” Charles added. “And apples,” he continued.

“Do you like soup, Miss Eloise?” Alex asked.

She thought for a moment. “I guess I like soup.”

“With potatoes?”

“Especially with potatoes.”

“Mama makes very good potato-soup.” She heard Sophie laugh. Then she called, her tone amused: “Charles, show her the painting and leave the poor Miss Eloise be.”

“Oh, I don't mind,” She commented and leaned over so she could look out through the open door to her. “Tell me if they are too much.” Sophie said when their eyes met.

“We are not too much!” Charles proclaimed. His balled fists landed on his sides.

“They are not,” Eloise reassured.

She turned back and looked at the painting. It was a forest scene, a beautiful one. With sunlight shining through the trees and a stream where a bunch of deers drank and rested.

“Have you ever been to a real forest?” Charles asked.

“I have, yes.” Both boys now focused on her.

“And have you seen real deer?”

Again, she affirmed and Alex shook his head in disbelief. Charles jumped from the bed and ran into the other room. “Did you hear that? Miss Eloise has seen deer in real life!” He called louder than strictly necessary in the small apartment.

“Don't say!” Sophie played along. And she wanted to follow first, but then Alex lifted his hand and it almost reached the canvas. She followed his line of sight and found he pointed at a rabbit hole with a little head popping out from it. “Oh, how sweet.” She whispered.

“It's a rabbit.” Alex explained.

“Do you like rabbits?” He nodded and his eyes went all big and shiny. “Almost as much as cats.”

“Cats are something. Where my family lives in the winter, there are a lot of them in the stables.”

“Can you show me?” His hands folded between him and her and once again she was taken aback by the sense of familiarity coursing through her.

“Sweetheart, I don't know. That is a long way from here.”

“Oh, I understand.” His face turned very serious but there was also a glint of disappointment in them and seeing that drove a jolt through her torso. He wiggled and she loosened her arms as the boy slipped down onto the floor. But he reached for her hand. And if she was not taken aback before, she was now. He said: “Travelling is very expensive and William is still much too small.” None of these were any of the concerns Eloise had had. She couldn't just pop by, put him in a carriage and drive him to Aubrey Hall on a Wednesday afternoon and have him home for dinner.

The two walked into the other room again. Charles stood right beside his mother, following every step that she made while she prepared tea. He looked up at her while he talked and she nodded and occasionally smiled down at him or ruffled his hair. The baby was bound to her chest again. Charles did not pause while she asked Eloise how she took her tea and was still able to answer him right when his explanation ended in a question.

“If you take a seat here,” Sophie pulled a chair to the window where there was good lighting. She pulled a tin from the dresser by the door and came her way, “I can work on your dress without you having to get out of it.” She explained. Eloise did as she was told and Sophie smiled and placed a tea saucer in her hand as she went on her knees by her side where the rip was.

“This is a very, very beautiful fabric.” Sophie whispered

“Is it? I would not know. My mother still orders them for me.”

“I fear I have not as fine a thread.”

“Oh, I do not care, I assure you. If nobody notices within the next two days that I destroyed the hem, I will be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“Alright then.” Sophie began her work. She worked swiftly and precisely. And Eloise was soon mesmerised by something she usually cared very little for.

“You are so fast!” She murmured and found herself leaning on her elbows to watch.

“I was a lady's maid. Before the boys.”

“Ahh,” William turned his head and when he noticed her he craned to fix her, she smiled and ohh, he smiled back. Sophie kissed his head and he wiggled his hand free only to grab at his mother's chin. He giggled when she pretended to bite his hand. He squealed when she caught his fingers with her lips. She let him free and kissed his temple a few times and refocused on her work.

“Here in London?” Eloise decided to dig a bit deeper.

“Too. I spent a lot of my childhood and youth in London, but after my father died my stepmother preferred the country.” Eloise tried first to not flinch at the emotions stirred upon her words and then to make sense of them. But Sophie had taken a needle between her lips while lifting her head up so William would not draw on the thread dangling from it. She used another needle for some other task.

“So you had to leave your work here to find another in the country?”

She let the question sit in the room and it was in Sophie's expression that she saw how she considered her words. Eventually she took the needle from her mouth.

“It's a complicated story.” She began, looked over her shoulder to see what her sons were doing. “I wasn't officially a daughter of my fathers. I was his ward. He was a Barron. When he died I was allowed to stay with the household as long as I paid my due.”

Eloise inhaled and held her breath, trying to sort the information in order to draw a logical conclusion.

“You were your stepmother's lady's maid?”

“Yes. And my sisters. Step-sisters.”

While she processed she took a sip from the tea, it was delicious and had the perfect temperature.

“That sounds horrible.”

“It was.” Sophie tied up her tools and closed the tin box again. “I met my husband while I worked there. It all turned out perfectly.” She smiled then and nodded.

“Did he save you?” Eloise thought of all the fairytales and their happy endings. Tried not to make a comment about it.

Sophie chuckled. “Oh, I like to believe I saved him!” Surprised, she looked at woman as she raised up again. She rolled her eyes. “He worked as a gardener and he developed terrible hives when stung by bees. It was not sustainable in the long run, for his health at least. I urged him to take a job in the city. I tell you, men endure the strangest things sometimes.”

Eloise grinned and Sophie did too as she packed away her supplies.

To chapter Three :)

#bridgerton fanfiction #Benedict x Sophie #benophie #benedict bridgerton and eloise bridgerton #siblings #family fic #au fic #AUs are gold #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #sophie beckett #canon divergence #character flaws #what if #bridgerton

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lady-wallace · 1 year

Text

Bouncing Baby Stand User (JJBA)

New Hearts of Gold fic! This is my Bruno/OC romance series (also with Abba/OC romance) and it’s time for Bruno and Maria to have their second baby. (If you haven’t read the rest of the series, you can find it all HERE!)

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(Hearts of Gold Verse) Maria and Bruno are pregnant with their second child, but it's a little different this time around. Maria wakes up one morning to find that she can now see Stands and is also exhibiting several other strange abilities. The parenting books didn't exactly mention this.

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Read on Ao3 Read on FF.net

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Maria woke slowly, content and comfortable. She had finally seemed to get past the morning sickness phase so waking up in the mornings was becoming a lot less dreadful. Not that Bruno hadn't been the most doting husband in the world to hold her hair back and bring her whatever she needed while she lay in bed, and Fugo and Giorno had tried literally everything they could think of as a remedy. It had still been a lot worse this time around than it had been with Paolo. Carmen told her she thought it would be a girl since she'd gone through the same thing with Rose.

Still, it was all worth it, and every day brought Maria closer to bringing their new baby into the world.

Maria snuggled back into the figure who currently had his arms wrapped around her.

"Actually staying in bed this morning, mi caro?" she asked sleepily, bringing her hands up to place over Bruno's where they rested gently above her growing belly.

But when she looked down she didn't see her husband's hands. Shock and brief terror jolted through her as she sat up, whipping around to see a bizarre figure lying in the bed next to her, looking just as surprised as she was. Despite the fact that his eyes were covered by some sort of spiky helmet.

And then she recognized the figure from the drawings Narancia had done when she had first come to stay with them so he could show her what the Stands looks like.

"Oh," Maria said. "Sticky Fingers?"

The Stand nodded, still sitting there as if he too were not sure what to do.

The door to their ensuite bathroom opened and Bruno came out with a towel around his bare shoulders smiling at Maria. "Can I get you some breakfast in bed this morning, bella?" he asked.

Maria was distracted by Sticky Fingers fading away and turned to look at the spot. Bruno stopped, watching her with an odd expression. "Is something wrong, Maria?"

"I…" she said, still looking at the spot. "Was…your Stand just out?"

Bruno stopped mid-way through toweling his hair. "Wait…could you see Sticky Fingers just now?"

Maria nodded. "I…I think so."

The air around Bruno rippled and Sticky Fingers appeared again, smiling slightly at Maria. "Can you see him right now?"

Maria nodded, eyes wide.

Bruno stood there, looking completely perplexed. "Well, that's…odd," was all he was able to say.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #fanfiction #jjba part 5 #hearts of gold #bruno bucciarati #Maria gallo #bucciarati x oc #bucciarati x ofc #baby fic #jjba fanfic #stands #sentient stands #baby stand users #sticky fingers #stand cuddling #family fluff #light angst

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xandriagreat · 1 year

Text

Family Is Family | Chapter four

First chapter | Last chapter | Next chapter | Master post

Notice/Warnings: judging, fear, almost falling, food/eating mentioned

▪▪▪

Lou looked around the mansion.

Everything was festive for the holidays. Even the ballroom was ready for a party.

Lou was so amazed by the decorations that he didn’t notice the big gorilla behind him.

“You’re amazed, aren’t you.”

Lou jumped a bit and turned around to see Gregory, towering over him. “Oh, hi! Yeah, I am amazed.” the little shark chuckled.

Then Jae ran into the room and exclaimed excitedly, “Hey, Dad! Lou! Elliot is here! It’s time for tailoring!”

Lou was confused and asked, “Who’s Elliot?”

Jae looked at him. “He’s a tailor.”

Lou nodded slowly, sort of understanding.

Gregory smiled and put an arm around Lou, guiding him to an extra room with Jae.

In the extra room, there was a man with some sewing supplies and different types of fabric. The man looked up and smiled softly. “It’s good to see you again, Gregory and Jae.” the man said to Gregory and Jae before looking at Lou. “And who are you?”

“I-um… Lou…” Lou whispered nervously.

The man hummed softly, “Nice to meet you Lou. I’m Elliot Heartsewn.”

Then Elliot got a notepad, pen, and measuring tape from the table, asking, “Who’s first?”

◇

Jae and Lou were allowed to go and watch a movie in the living room after Elliot got both of their measurements.

“We can watch The Christmas Carol!” Jae said happily.

“Yeah!” Lou agreed.

Then they both ran out of the room to go get the movie.

Gregory chuckled as they both ran off.

“So, that’s the lad that you’re planning to adopt.” Elliot said, taking Gregory’s measurements, sounding confused.

Gregory looked at him and asked, “What's wrong with that?”

Elliot shrugged as he started to work on the suit after getting Gregory measurements. “I-I don’t know… It’s just… odd, I guess.”

“Explain.” Gregory said, sounding cold. He walked over to the tailor.

"I-uh-well…" Elliot stuttered and chuckled nervously as he looked up at him.

Gregory towered over him, a scolding face looking down at him.

"I-it's be-because he's… different from you and Joanne." Elliot said finally.

Gregory hummed softly and nodded slowly. "I see… That's very judgmental and not nice. Even for the holidays." he said, putting a hand on Elliot's shoulder.

Elliot's breathing started to quickened. "Gregory, please… Please don't give me the same fate as Everett Evergreen… Please… I'm sorry…" Elliot begged.

Gregory breathed softly and let go of Elliot's shoulder. "You're on your first strike, Elliot." he said, walking away.

"I-what?" the tailor asked, confused. "You're not going to-?"

"No. I'm not." Gregory replied, who stopped walking and looked at Elliot. "I always give everyone three warnings, then I choose their fate."

Before Elliot could speak, Gregory said, "You can work on the outfits in your shop. Danny will help you out to your car."

Then Gregory walked away.

"I- um… Thank you..?" Elliot called out.

Gregory chuckled and went to the living room. He saw both Lou and Jae hugging each other on the couch. He smiled softly and sat down on the couch, watching the movie with them.

◇

The day of the party that Gregory's hosting arrived.

Lou was in his suit and was having trouble with his tie. Jae just came in and noticed that he was struggling. “Want help?” she asked, walking over to him. He nodded and turned to her. She helped tie the tie.

“Thanks, Jae.” Lou said, smiling and noticed her outfit.

Jae was wearing a suit but the suit coat was like a dress.

“You look nice.” Lou commented.

Jae smiled. “Thank you. Now come on! I think everyone’s here!”

Lou followed her to the ballroom, where there were a lot of anthros, dressed in their best.

Some were predators and some were prey, but they were all having a great time.

At one point, Lou noticed a dark gray-brown wolf dancing with a beautiful doe on the dance floor. He was getting some water when he noticed them.

“Don’t worry. He’s not going to hurt her.” a voice said that came from the table. Lou jumped and looked at the table to see a small piranha, wearing hispicinc clothing.

“Oh, hi!” Lou exclaimed at him.

The little piranha waved at him. “Hola.”

Then the little piranha tried to get some water but he was struggling by holding the cup and trying to move the tap to get water. It was very hard since his body was about the same size as the cup and trying not to fall.

Shark noticed and asked, “Do you want help?”

“I’m good-” the small piranha started but almost fell off the table. Thankfully, Lou caught him.

Lou turned the tap and the piranha filled his cup. Lou got himself a cup too and filled it before turning off the tap.

“I’m Lou, by the way.” the little shark said smiling.

“Pepe.” the little piranha said, smiling at him back.

Both took a sip of their drinks and looked at the dark gray-brown wolf and the beautiful doe.

“So, how do you know that he’s not going to hurt her?” Lou asked, looking back at Pepe.

“They’re a couple, that's what I know… and well, a few years ago, I thought that he was going to hurt her. So, I bit his tail to stop. Then the next thing I knew was that I flew to the punch bowl.” Pepe explained. “I think that’s one of the reasons that they stopped serving punch and use these things.”

Lou hummed and nodded.

They both talked, ate some sweets, and danced for the rest of the party and had fun until it was over, which made both of them sad.

“Be safe and have a happy holiday, Pepe.” Lou said, hugging Pepe.

“You have a happy holiday too.” Pepe said, hugging back.

After Pepe left with his Mama, Lou looked up at Gregory, who was carrying a sleeping Jae.

“I made a friend.” Lou said, smiling big.

Gregory smiled back softly and he listened to Lou talk as they went upstairs to get to bed from the long fun party.

▪▪▪

Author's note: Merry Christmas/happy holidays everyone!

#the bad guys #family is family #jae g #mr shark #mr. shark #mr piranha #mr. piranha #Gregory Gold #the bad guys fic #the bad guys oc

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orcelito · 2 years

Text

Listen I am just mentally ill about them. It happens.

#speculation nation #it's like akeshu in my soul but more to the right #the Wildly Mentally Ill Person Obsessed With Revenge #and the person with a heart of gold that inadvisably falls in love with them & makes it their personal mission to save them #but akeshu is more Rivals & akechi lashing out at everyone around him #while leopika is old friends who have fallen out of touch due to kurapika's self isolation and self destruction for the sake of revenge #akeshu is begging and crying and being disregarded #leopika is long nights of missed calls and 'i miss you's that go unanswered #EXCEPT kurapika still vocally trusts leorio & feels comforted by his presence and wants him around #EVEN THOUGH HES DENYING HIMSELF OF IT. THIS DUMB BITCH.#god i am so mentally ill about them #AND!!!!!!!!!! inherently for hxh leopika are the Parents to gon & killua. happened accidentally for them but it happened #so they are PARENTS TOGETHER and that drives me literally insane #hxh family together with gon and killua being in each others' pockets and then theres leorio and kurapika #looking on with protective affection (even tho gon n killua can fend for themselves PERFECTLY fine but shhhhh)#i desperately need to look for leopika fic again. i am going insane.#it's 2 am i need to sleep. so much for midnight bedtime lmfao

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mamayan · 7 months

Note

You up? Give us some delicious yandere stuff 🙏 let's say... Fae King yandere and changeling darling 😏✨

This turned into a full fic :3 ~★ In honor of some monster fucking!

Yandere! Dark Fae King x Darling! Changeling

tw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Non-Human Morality • Kidnapping • afab Reader • Dubcon • Oral (F) • Grooming (reader is of consenting adult age) • Forced Mating • Imprisonment • Violence (not toward reader) • Implied Murder • Rough Sex • Praise • Overstimulation • Dumbification • Belly Bulge • Size Kink

Part Two: Here

“…hic…sniff…”

Dark eyes glanced into the cool night, curious as to what creature was disturbing his evening.

“…hic…” it came again, much to his chagrin.

The still lake reflected the full moon like a mirror. To his left, not too far off, he honed in on the disturber. Something small and curled up. Shaking. The oddity enough to catch his full attention as he stood silently. The night his home and prison as he swiftly left in a puff of smoke over to the location of his intruder.

You.

His first instinct to end your miserable life, a human somehow entering his domain and crossing his barriers, but upon a closer look… he realized you were of his own kind.

A changeling at that. An abandoned fae left to die in the hands of mortals. Few if any live to maturity like this, but your short human stature led him to believe your growth was surely stunted due to neglect. Young fae needed abundant love and care in their infancy, the first 100 years of life incredibly crucial for their development. Least they end up like him and his kingdom. You were even younger than full maturity, though your physical body had completed it’s growth, your magic was weak and juvenile.

You were making odd noises which drew his curiosity, moving closer to your form, face buried in your lap as you hunched over your drawn up legs. Your feet were bare as the edges of the water lapped at them. Clothing sparse and tattered, rags unfit for even a human, let alone a Fae nearing maturity.

“Noisy little thing,” he hums aloud, startling you as you jolt and nearly throw yourself into the water. Your neck snaps up, pretty face swollen and blotchy from tears looking up and up until you saw a creature looming over you.

Your scream is cut off by a clawed dark hand, slapping over your mouth and muffling the cry as you try to jerk away in fear and panic. He watches in mild amusement, snickering as you realize your struggle is futile and efforts dying down. “Scream if you like, but none other than I will hear it out here.” He assures ominously, thin onyx colored lips pulling back to bare his razor sharp canines and pearly teeth at you. His grin savage and delighted in your terror.

He watches curiously as your wide doe eyes well up with tears, the crystalline droplets spilling up and over your cheeks, soft lips quivering beneath his palm. You reminded him of an animal imploring their predator for mercy by revealing their underbelly. There was a word for it…

Cute. His mind conjured at last. He found you cute, a changeling bold enough to intrude into the kingdom of the corrupted. You hadn’t even dropped the mirage covering you, old magic from your biological family still covering your natural appearance to mimic the human you parasitized off the life of.

“Why do you cry little one?” He asks softly, attempting not to terrify you further and avoid his questions.

You hesitate, but his molten gold eyes seem to melt through your defenses despite his dangerous and beautiful appearance. “I’m wrong,” you sniffle, grateful when he removes his enormous hand off your face, the sharp claws tipped in gold frightening against your soft breakable skin. “All wrong… and I don’t know what to do.” You curl back up around yourself, as if he too will cast judgement upon you.

He awkwardly mimics your stance, curiosity blazing as watches you in fascination. You find the way his monstrously large form contorts to sit like you somewhat baffling and amusing, less frightened now that he doesn’t seem to wish you harm.

“How are you wrong then?” He pries further, cupping his defined jaw and leaning into his hand as he observes.

“I’m not…I’m not human—I’m a—a—,” you stumble, unsure if this night is even real anymore. The shock so great you’re still trying to cope.

“A faery?” He supplies, amused by the way you gesture with your hands, expression so open and easy to read. “A changeling raised amongst humans to feed off their happiness?” His deep voice purrs it happily, as if he’s glad for it.

He is. His hatred of humans not something he feels the need to hide.

You appear devastated though, “I didn’t mean to—I don’t want to hurt or make anyone unhappy.” You mumble miserably, tugging at your hair and skin, as if that will dispel the magic which hides your true appearance.

“That’s just how our kind is, we need that happiness to grow properly.” He rubbles, eyeing your shocked expression. “We also happen to be fickle creatures ironically, and if a newborn is thought to need too much care, it is pawned off on humans who have more patience.” He clarifies, smiling as you seem to take him in with new eyes.

“You— are you a faery too? You just seem…” he chuckles as you awkwardly trail off.

“Evil? Centuries ago humans once called me the devil,” he laughs, his dark hair falling into his face like a waterfall as he shakes the loose fluffy curls, his pointed horns jutting from the top of his forehead jet black and smooth like ivory. He was too beautiful to call a devil, though you supposed it could be because of that which he was deemed so. His every feature seeming to catch your gaze with it’s beauty.

“I was going to say different…” you trail off shyly. “You don’t seem evil to me at least.”

He pauses, taking you in again as you regard him with those harmless eyes still wet with drying tears. It’d been centuries too since he’d left his kingdom, the entrance to the veil this lake he occasionally comes up to lounge by. He hasn’t seen a human since then, let alone a changeling or uncorrupted little faery like you.

He likes those pretty tears. He finds it annoying you shed them for humans you should guiltlessly take from.

His smile widens, eyes glittering mischievously and nearly glowing as he leans closer. The smell of sugar and cinnamon wafting off of him as you breathe in, nearly gasping as your mouth waters.

“How’s this little one? I’ll teach you how to be a faery, to show you there is nothing wrong with you.”

His eyes, where they should be white are entirely inky black, golden irises with reddened pupils framed by dark thick lashes, looked sincerely upon you.

He seemed genuine and kind despite his towering humanoid figure which looked to be capable of killing you easily.

It warmed you though, the thought of wanting to belong strong as you nod with a smile.

“I’d be eternally grateful.” You nod.

Sealing your fate.

“Tell me your name.” He asks sweetly, because despite his menacing size and sharp teeth and nails, your new friend was nothing but kind and gentle with you.

“Y/N” you reply easily, letting him playfully ruffle your hair as he picks out the leaves which got tangled in your locks from your travels here.

When he repeats it though, wonderful shivers shoot down your spine. He smiles, cooing at you like one might a baby as a he teases, “Such a cute name for a cute faery.”

You weakly protest, but fall into easy laughter as he swiftly changes the subject.

He was discussing proper fae etiquette. The basics, to not say please or thank you or I’m sorry. They all meant you expected more from the other or wouldn’t reciprocate, and that was just bad manners.

His soft hands, which could easily cover your entire face, were settled on your upper arms, having sat you in the grass against his chest.

He liked holding you close. Your little figure so soft, and from the dark circles beneath your human appearance, he assumed the neglect from the humans you resided amongst was growing worse. It was bad for your development.

“You should come live out here, they are vile creatures you know.” He comments every time you visit, though he never forces you to stay with him.

“It’s because I make them unhappy…” you explain sheepishly.

He shakes his head, thick brow arching as he rolls his eyes. “You are nearly completely mature now, you suck no happiness from your surroundings anymore silly girl.” Your confusion was palpable as he sighs and further explains, enjoying the squish of your tender flesh as he lightly squeezes you.

“While it is true fae infants are quite the hassle to raise, it isn’t as tortuous as humans make it out to be. In fact, most fae will take their child back if not treated well by their human surrogates.”

You hum, relaxing back against his warm chest and breathing in his sugary scent.

“So why wasn’t I—,” you stop short, brows furrowed but no longer speaking.

He doesn’t pry further, leaning his chin atop your head as he looks out at the lake.

“You won’t tell me?” You push, annoyed how he dances around your question endlessly. Your companion close enough that you feel insulted he won’t reveal it.

“My name is not to be uttered aloud, least calamity befall this land~” he’s teasing, you know he is, but still he refuses to divulge his name. “I gave you mine,” you argue again, huffing as he chuckles and lightly shoves you to your back on the grass, leaning over you and caging you in beneath him.

The moon is bright like the first time you’d met, illuminating his other worldly beauty.

“If you wish to call me something, call me Master,” he laughs, his sharp teeth no longer scaring you, but making your thighs squeeze together whenever he flashes them. He acts nothing like an immortal being, too immature and jovial to resemble someone having lived for thousands of years.

“So why do you get my name, but I don’t get yours?” You question in annoyance, avoiding his kiss to your cheek by jerking your face away. He huffs, sharp gaze daring you to dodge again.

You do. Earning yourself a warning nip to your collarbone as you yelp.

“Mean!” You cry, pushing at his chest as he snickers.

“Yes little flower, I am very, very, mean.” He rumbles, chest literally vibrating much like a cat does to purr.

“You give me weird nicknames…” you mutter, giving up as he licks your cheek. You don’t fight it, even as it feels foreign to you, trying to accept this side of your culture.

He licks your neck, lavishing the point where your pulse races with wet kisses and you tremble and struggle to act unaffected beneath him.

His smile is dangerous outside your view.

“Star!” You giggle, his rumble of irritation not the least intimidating to you as you roll away.

“That is an awful nickname.” He hisses, face twisted in disgust as you throw out the most horrendous names you could conjure in your pretty head at him.

“Lumi!” He growls.

“Then… Kitty?” He nearly bites you, careful not to play too roughly as he lightly tackles you down.

“If I give you a nickname, will you cease your little game?” He feels his anger fade as he wraps his arms around your smaller figure, easily pulling you into his lap. You don’t even flinch, too engrossed in your amusement to care where he handles you. You nod happily, your wish finally being fulfilled.

“Very well you stubborn creature,” he chides, “In addition to Master, you may also call me King.”

You frown. Clearly displeased by the lack of intimacy in the name. He laughs, amused by your obvious dislike. He kisses your puffed cheeks, over your pouty lips, and down to your vulnerable neck. Snickering as he goes, adoring how you so easily become pliant for him.

“I am teasing pretty flower, there was a time long ago I was called Ava, will you settle now?” He asks, voice husky as he sucks a mark into your skin, your little whine flaring his desires.

A strong urge to press you down and mate you nearly overpowers his control, but he merely holds you close and breathes your floral scent in to calm himself.

“I still prefer Kitty…” His eye twitches.

“Ava… this feels weird…” he pauses, looking down at your small form still cloaked like a human. Weak beneath him, partially nude as your skirt is pulled up to your soft belly. Your thighs are spread and shaking, his lips sucking another mark onto the thin skin of your inner thigh while you writhe.

He had your wet dripping slit open to the night air and his lustful gaze, begging for his tongue to taste.

“You don’t want to please me?” He asks, purring as you pout but deny. You were such a good little girl for him after all, so eager to learn and soak up his attention.

He resumes, licking down your thigh until his face rested above the warm mound you so sweetly offered him.

“You’re being so good for me petal, can you keep your legs open or should I help you?” He doesn’t need to look up to know you’re shaking in arousal and embarrassment. He can feel the tremors through the air as you struggle to keep your thighs spread as he asked.

“I-I need help…” you admit, feeling terribly hot as he keeps licking you, except where you seem to ache for him to lick.

He easily shifts forward, arms wrapping around you and letting your legs rest over his shoulders as he finally lets his tongue slip out to taste you.

You glance down, choking at the sight and feeling as he lets his entire tongue come out, the appendage inhumanly long and colored purple. It feels strange, the wet slimy feeling of his tongue slithering through your folds, but when he nudges the tiny nub hidden above your slit, you moan.

It sends jolts of electricity through you, hips canting up so he can to lick there again, earning you a hearty chuckle as he obliges. Licking and even curling his tongue around it, riling you up as your tiny hole leaks arousal and drips down your ass to the earth below.

“You’re making a mess petal, do you feel good? Should I stick my tongue inside you this time?” You moan, feeling the muscle prod at your unused vaginal entrance, too hazy to bother responding. He doesn’t wait for your answer, letting the thin tip of his tongue lap and taste your heady desire before poking and wiggling inside you.

It has your legs shooting straight, back arching as he holds you down with one large hand placed over your belly and chest. He groans as he feels the molten texture of your insides struggling against his intrusion, trying to force him out of your tight heat as he surges forward.

The tip of his tongue curls, swirling up and knocking the air from your lungs as a rush of hot liquid spills from your insides for him to drink down.

You shook and twitched, moaning and curling your hands around his curved horns like a handle.

The touch sends blood racing to his cock, as he moans and loudly slurps your cum down with audible squelching, enjoying the cries you released into the quiet night.

He lets you rest as he pulls back for just a moment, your body limp and panting as your high comes down.

“Good girl~” he praises, leaning over you to kiss softly at your sweaty skin, licking that too and tasting the sweet and salty mixture.

Then he’s pressing his lips against yours, forcing them open to sneak his long tongue inside your mouth, filling it and claiming that space too as his own. You’re helpless to resist, delirious on pleasure as he devours you, wiggling muscle curling and rubbing erotically around your own.

He tastes like sugar and something heavier, more musky, as you come to realize it as your own taste.

“Is this… really normal…?” You can help but ask as he pulls away, his lips still sticking close to trail kisses across your skin.

“It’s quite normal little flower, are you shy still?” He asks curiously, lifting one of your small hands and bringing it to his face, his size dwarfing you considerably. He lightly nibbles on your fingers, making a giggle bubble up as you smile and then squirm when he grins and licks your hand instead.

“A little…” you admit honestly. Always so honest and open.

He nods, as if completely understanding.

“That’s alright, we’re in no rush, I’ll teach you slowly…” there’s something else not said in his words, and you’re left drunk on his pheromones and lips as he distracts you. Then he’s kissing down, discarding your clothing and leaving you naked for his mouth and curious fingers.

Your breasts are lavished in his saliva, pebbled nipples sucked until standing upright before poked down with the tip of his tongue playfully. Always so playful, Ava nips and teases your skin, blinking innocently when you moan and glare accusingly.

“It’s not my fault you enjoy this so much petal~” he pouts, looking comical and so harmless, his glittery gold wings, almost translucent behind him, fluttering as if indignant to your silent accusation.

The golden tattoos which marked his skin more visible tonight, his clothing more minimal in his wish to feel more of you as he explores and plays.

Then he’s parting your thighs and throwing you into ecstasy again.

“Who did it?”

You sat curled around yourself, terror and dread swirling inside of you at the new side of Ava you’d never been graced with before.

The side you supposed was reserved for his enemies, but now showed to you.

Despite your fear, the tears spilling down your cheeks, and the injuries you bore, you still remained stubbornly silent.

He was going insane with rage and anguish.

You truly were a flower. So delicate and easily destroyed.

“Y/N… while I am being reasonable…Tell. Me. Who. Did. It.”

For all the times he’d made himself smaller, less alarming and more charming than his true nature called for, it made this time more appallingly. He stood to his full height, like an unwavering tree he did not budge or allow you to leave, golden eyes flaring and mixing with his red pupils to create something alarming. Even the markings which covered his dark skin seemed to glow and match his eyes, magic crackling in the air and silencing the night further.

As if the stars and moon were frightened too.

Still, still, you did not speak, even as he closed in on you, your fear so strong it almost choked him. Almost. He was too angry, too furious with the humans he liked to cast out of his mind. They needed to be taught a lesson it seemed. Their fear of the Fae renewed. They were becoming arrogant, as if their species was even in the same standing as them.

Your pretty injured face and form, battered from abuse and humiliation, was all the information he truly needed.

If you wanted to protect them, and not tell him, then he’d just punish them all as if they were the culprits.

It soothed him finally, his decision made as the ominous energy around him faded slowly. He let his rage dissipate, worry and concern bleeding through now as he crouched and shuffled towards you, claws spread and outstretched towards you.

“Come here Y/N, keep your secrets, but allow me to hold and comfort you…” his eyes darkened, the glow leaving behind almost a copper color, somber as he looks at you. There’s not pity in his eyes though, as you swallow and sigh in relief, grateful to crawl into his warm embrace where it feels safe.

He’s gentle as he wraps you in his arms, lips and tongue soothing as he tastes your tears and blood.

He grits his teeth, focusing on your scent and the feel of you to calm himself again, before letting his magic seep into your skin. You easily absorbed it, soaking it up like a sponge as your pain and injuries heal.

“Ava—?” Your eyes widen, amazement in their depths which stroke his ego as he taps his forehead against your own. His horns slightly tangling in your hair.

“Do you not want to drop the illusion on yourself?” He asks softly, staring at the human image your portray. He didn’t want to admit it, but it enraged him to see you still trying to live amongst them.

You seem surprised, before looking away nervously.

“It just feels strange… to not see myself anymore,” you confess, burrowing deeper into his chest while enjoying his ability to heal and soothe you. His sugary smell lightening your heavy heart.

He nods slowly, eyes staring at nothing over the still lake.

He holds you a little tighter.

Then you’re asleep.

The burns and screams of the people echo, the night come to life with flames and chaos.

Ava stands leisurely, smile filled with fondness as he watches the human village he’d followed and found to be your residence burn.

He’d spent all night playing with them, listening to them confess the awful things they’d done to you, said to you, and tried to do to you. They even thought of sacrificing you to some nonexistent deity, which only prolonged the nightmare he’d turned the populace into.

He laughed as the sounds swirled into music for his ears, the sharp points curling in delight as he hummed a tune older than the trees towering in this forest.

The night was still coming to an end sadly, and he’d need to return to your unconscious body still where he’d left it.

He didn’t want to let you wake in your new home alone after all.

His body covered in the blood of mortals he’d torn into and feasted on, Ava left them to perish.

Alone you woke. In a bed four times the size of any normal one, within the walls of a palace you’d only ever seen depicted in stories told by faraway travelers.

You glanced down, at hands unlike ones you were accustomed to seeing. You were nude, unable to hide from yourself as you felt tears begin to sprout. The illusion magic wasn’t working, and you couldn’t understand why.

This body was your true form, not that of the human you continuously tried to convince yourself you were. You hadn’t showed Ava, too afraid he’d see your appearance and dislike you for it.

While he was magnificent, you felt puny and odd.

A hiss snatches you from your self loathing, eyes flicking up to land on the one you’d just been thinking of.

He was covered in something, though you weren’t entirely sure what until he moved closer. The pearls lining his chambers glowed softly, his appearance more vibrant as he closed the distance between himself and the bed you laid on.

You sucked in a breath, realization dawning as the red contrasts against his skin. His lower face completely smeared in it, but his lips seemed clean. Until he grinned, red stained sharp teeth with chunks of dark meat stuck in between.

You remembered briefly him mentioning being mistaken for a demon.

You finally understood as a strange fear blossomed in your gut and you scooted away. Confusion and terror consuming you, but your body not catching up with your mind, because it recognized his scent and touch. You didn’t move quick enough, a clawed hand easily curling around your ankle and tugging you close. You slid smoothly over the cool silk, brought close to his body radiating heat. He only wore trousers, his taloned feet bare and ankles revealed as he’d cuffed them up to avoid bloody human fingers trying to grip them.

“Oh my little flower, look at you,” his eyes are swirling melted gold, enchanting and so disorienting. His beauty becoming savage with the blood and human flesh he adorned.

“A-Ava…” you want to ask, but you also don’t want the answer.

Did he find out who hurt you? Or was it unrelated? It seemed too coincidental.

Your chest constricted painfully as he stared down at you in wonder. Your true form so lovely it took his breath away, your image so fitting for you it was a wonder why you didn’t prefer this over your human mirage. Your ears, pointed like his own, were curled down a little with your emotions, as his eyes traced your face.

The shape was the same, your body still so small, and your eyes still expressed every little thought without fail.

He hated to admit it was even cuter, though he mused it was likely because he was the first to see your true form.

An abandoned young changeling, one he only took mild interest in, had him so thoroughly ravenous for all of you now.

“Isn’t this more comfortable petal? Instead of masquerading as a filthy human, aren’t you happier to just be you now?” His callous words seem off, but you can’t quite fathom it all as the shock settles in.

“My precious flower faery, are you scared?” Yes, you wanted to scream, as his bloody face and body near you, his sugary scent over powered by the scent of iron and death. Fae hated iron. He shouldn’t be comfortable.

You choked, jerking back and trying to crawl away from him, but he still had your ankle caged in his hand.

He laughs, but it’s empty and devoid of any true humor as he stares down at you with something dark in his gaze.

He yanks you back, harshly and sending a jolt of pain up your leg as you cry out, pulled back beneath him as he crawls onto the bed over you.

He’s too close, nausea consuming you as you smell and see the gore adorning him.

He finds your useless fear amusing and annoying all at once.

“I asked you a question little flower.” He grips your face, smushing your cheeks and making you look at him.

He rolls his eyes as the tears you so love to shed spill down your cheeks.

“Yes… I-I’m scared…” his smile softens, almost becoming sweet and familiar.

“Good. You should be.” Your blood runs cold.

He has the mercy to bathe, but not alone. You watch as the spray of water from some sort of piping turns pink as it disappears through tiny holes in the marble floor.

He’s nude, like you, and even though you cower and try to turn away, he easily stops any and all retreats with hardly any effort.

“I thought you didn’t like the blood? I’m still not clean petal.” His fluffy curls are flattened by the water falling above, the warm spray soaking you both as you try not to wonder why the sticky redness won’t just wash away with the water. The dried portions difficult to get off without physically touching and rubbing him with your soapy hands. You wanted to know why he was doing this, being so mean.

His ears look more distinct with his hair flat, onyx horns prominent against his forehead as his lashes hold droplets of water to frame his golden eyes.

You try not to show it, but as the blood clears and his dark smooth gold lined skin is revealed, you notice the hard lines of muscle and purple veins which protrude.

You only come up just below his chest, and you can’t look down, least you see it again.

He was making you nervous and scared on purpose, but you couldn’t understand why.

Like a coward you didn’t ask either, because you feared the answer even more.

Ava shifts, fingers coming up to cup your face in his hands and tilt your head up as he leans over you and blocks the water falling. His claws jut out beside your head, one lightly tickling your pointed little ear.

He licks his lips, loving the sight of you soaked and naked, your pretty form so enthralling to his eyes he struggles to contain himself.

“Do you want my help…?” His tone is condescending, eyes uncaring in the least about your inner turmoil.

“Here,” he drops one hand, engulfing your wrist and forcing you to plant your hand against his abdomen. “You have to wash like this—,” he teaches patiently, like none of this was happening and everything was fine. He moves your soft little hand back and forth, the soap quick to wash away as the water continues to fall. “You need more soap petal.” He informs gently, moving to stop the warm spray and letting you both stand in silence now, drops of water falling the only noise besides your breathing.

He sighs when you don’t move, your eyes trained on the corner of the spacious bathing room, where an in ground bath rests. He would take you to the hot springs later.

He fills the hand he has control of with soap, and amuses himself with using it like a washcloth, your little fingers curling as your lips tilt down into a frown.

“Since you need the help,” he goads, watching as those sweet familiar doe eyes flash up a glare from the corner of your eye.

He smiles, a nasty grin filled with something sinister as he chuckles darkly. “Don’t want to be my good girl anymore?” It’s a loaded question you’re unsure of how to answer.

It hardly matters as he forces your hand down, until you jolt at the change in body part you were touching. He forces your fingers to close around his throbbing length, unable to touch or fully wrap around it as your head jerks instinctively to look at what he was making you do.

“A-Ava—,” you try to pull away, but to no avail. He only hums, the soap like lube as he uses your hand to jerk his cock, amused as you stare in shock. He won’t let you go, not when the sight of your smaller form holding his leaking rod is so arousing he comes a minute a later. Hips thrusting with the timing of the squeeze he forces your hand to hold, hot ropes of his seed shooting out onto your chest and belly as he cages you with his free arm from moving away. He allows his purple tapered tip to smear the remaining pearls of his seed on your skin, ignoring your whine of protest as he paints you.

“Fuck, that’s it, be good for me pretty girl,” he growls lightly, chest rattling as he releases his pent up frustration on your confused form.

Really, you couldn’t be more adorable covered in his release looking dazed.

His golden eyes heavy lidded as he crouches down to catch your lips in a heated kiss.

You swallow nervously, staring at Ava as he stares at you from across his bed chambers.

You’d fallen asleep after… after bathing, if you could even call it that, and awoken later to find yourself alone again. Ava missing and your body covered by fine silk sheets while you slept.

You’d scrambled about the room looking for escape, finding nothing but a single exit locked, which Ava now stood before.

He wore a pair of silken sleep pants, tailored to his enormous figure as well as a matching robe left loose and revealing a majority of his chest and abdomen. His wings weren’t physical but a magic which naturally formed behind him, you’d learned.

The gold markings on his body were duller than earlier, his eyes less vibrant and more cool as he looks at you.

He seems more… familiar. Less of the Ava covered in blood and flesh of humans and more of the one you’ve befriended.

He’s silent, unmoving as he stands still in the doorway.

You don’t want to make the first move, unsure in this new environment, but you similarly disliked all of this distance and miscommunication between you both.

You moved cautiously, much like the skittish animal he likens you to in his mind, off the bed. You’d wrapped yourself in one of his sheets, his scent clinging to you the only thing stopping him from tearing it off you in annoyance. He stays put, muscles taunt and jaw clenched as you approach him like he might harm you.

He debated it.

Briefly showing you why you should be obedient and just listen, but dismissing it in favor of you liking him at least to some degree.

When you reach him, he merely stares down at you, face impassive unlike your nervous and awkward expression.

“Ava…?” He finally shifts, leaning down to close the distance a little but still not touching you. It’s you who initiates, because he’s certain he’s trained you well enough in your past touch starved state that you can’t resist the comfort and warmth he provides. You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your figure to his while looking up with those honest eyes he adores.

He finally relaxes, your touch so addicting he was unable to resist wrapping you further into his embrace while lifting you up. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, warm bare cunt now pressed against his abdomen while your arms come around his neck. The sheet loosening and falling down to pool at his feet. He finally smiles at your flustered state, not letting you climb down to grab it, instead moving you both towards his—your—bed and easily laying you down to drape over you.

“You’re calmer than I imagined you’d be…” he murmurs against the skin of your neck, kissing up to your jaw. “Should I prepare for your wrath later little flower?” He muses, lifting up to look at your expression.

“Was that blood… from a human?” You look guarded but he isn’t surprised.

“Yes.”

“Did you kill them?” He affirms again.

“Was it because of… me?” Those sweet eyes looked so haunted as you asked, as if you knew what he was going to say.

“No. It wasn’t because of you.”

You check his face, as if he were a human and would lie to you as they do.

“Then why did you do it?” You breathed, sagging in relief beneath him. His lips twitch, molten eyes shining with adoration as he looks upon you.

“They greatly offended me.” He answers vaguely, but it was the truth. They offended him by breathing and walking the earth. It was a direct insult to him. They only met misfortune because they caught his attention.

You seemed happy to accept whatever rid you of any guilt, looking up at him less fearfully now that he was clean and not being mean to you. Though, you both shared very different definitions of being “mean”.

“Am I staying the night?” You asked him curiously. You had thought he’d brought you here as he didn’t know where your home in the village was when you’d fallen asleep.

He shook his head, lips curling higher.

“You’re staying forever.” He declares, sweet scent filling your senses as he comes close enough to kiss you.

Then he does.

You thought his teasing was funny, lips tilting up finally as the awkwardness dissipates and familiarity rises.

This is your Ava, warm sweet Ava that smells so good it makes you crave sweets you cannot afford.

He presses you further into the unfathomably soft bed, his lips demanding as you open for him.

“Ava,” you break the kiss, breathing heavier as he growls and nips at your bottom lip, a shiver wracking you as he leans back enough to meet your gaze. “What we’re doing… it’s what lovers and spouses do isn’t it? At least, this is what human lovers do…” your voice becomes smaller as he stares down as you with an expression you couldn’t name.

“And?” He encourages.

You look away for a moment, gathering your thoughts before remembering out of all the cruelty in the world, Ava was the outlier.

“Is that what we’re doing? Like lovers?” You felt too embarrassed to directly state it, to say it aloud, and equally scared this isn’t anything different than exchanging a handshake with another faery to him. It was different to you.

“Do you want it to be?” He leans down, placing a feather soft kiss against your temple so you couldn’t see his eyes glowing bright. “Do you want us to be like lovers little flower?” His voice is deeper than usual, strained almost as he holds himself perfectly still above you.

You take the time to think, much to his displeasure, but when you answer it was everything for him.

“I do.”

He places a chaste kiss to your lips, his own tilting higher and higher until he’s grinning gleefully.

“Then that’s what we’ll be.” He confirms, and you miss it.

You miss every little trap he’d laid, each tiny piece of the puzzle forming around you like a cage. You miss everything and it’s too late to go back now. Ava muses wickedly, as he kisses you more sensually, lets his claws drag so delicately down your soft skin, he thinks how stupid you are.

“I’ll be all yours if you ask for it Y/N,” he speaks directly into your pointed ear, hot breath making the tips curl as you whine. The way he says your name is different than usual, more serious and seductive. You realize this seems wrong somehow, the way he’s making you melt so easily like this, how your panic and fear evaporated so quickly. You aren’t given time to think further, when he shifts and sits up. He sneers when you attempt to cover yourself again, gripping your wrist and lightly pulling you up too. On your knees, you face his chest, eyes looking up to see his heated expression.

Ava cups your jaw with one hand, and pokes at your lip with the other.

He doesn’t ask before his thumb invades your mouth, and you fight not to bite down or jerk away with his pointed claw inside.

He’s exploring, squeezing your cheeks until you open wide so he can playfully run over your sharpened canines. Curiously playing with your tongue until he leans down licks it with his own. It felt strange and erotic, your body vibrating with nerves and budding arousal as he explores you.

“Ava…” you wanted to touch him too, but he didn’t seem to be listening as he lets his hands trail down to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples as your back arches into them.

So you let your own hands wander, bolder than usual as you feel his solid form beneath you. His skin is much softer than it appears, strange markings and golden symbols flat. He had no softer points aside from that, muscles like stone and occasionally uncomfortable to lounge against due to it.

He squeezes your waist, smiling mischievous as you yelp and glare at him. He does it again, finally chuckling as he lets his hands slip to your ass.

This time his squeeze makes you gasp, as he parts your ass cheeks and allows your heated core to be exposed to the air. His claws so careful not to tear your skin open as he drags you taunt against him, rutting his hardened cock against your soft belly.

He moans aloud as he sees the tip poke out between you, your breasts above a delicious sight as he does it again and again.

“You drive me wild pretty faery,” he smiles, licking your cheek as he easily lifts you up to toss you to the center of the bed. You sink in, huffing but giggling as he crawls over you, looking like a dark angel as he covers you completely to capture your lips in a much more filthy kiss.

“I want to devour you,” he purrs, licking and kissing down your neck and chest, spreading your legs. “Make you mine completely,” you moan, feeling delirious as he finally licks your sloppy pussy.

You moan when you feel his fingers prod your entrance, sharp claws gone and retracted as he pushes one inside you while he laps at your clit. It feels different and firmer than his tongue, able to rub and stretch you better as he begins sucking on your puffy nub and purring deep in his chest. “Your little nub is hard~ are you feeling good?” He teases, wiggling the tip of his tongue over your engorged clit.

Then he’s pressing a second finger in, a mild burn heating your core as you gasp and try to shift away to no avail. “So sensitive,” he murmurs, spearing them into you, your soft gummy walls forcefully spread around the two digits as he noisily slurps. He’s being messy and a bit rough, but your moans spur him on as he groans into your pussy when you begin clawing at his hair and whining.

“Ava! S’too much! Can’t—!” You squeak and almost bite your tongue when you cum, pussy sucking his fingers deep and massaging them as you soak his hand and face.

He doesn’t stop, eyes glowing bright molten gold as he watches you squirm and babble senselessly while he stuffs a third finger into your poor overstimulated cunt. Your little hole stretched wide around him, and he’s content to watch as your greedy lower mouth takes it as he pumps them into you.

You’re less amused though, body thrumming as the pleasure becomes overwhelming and you panic.

“Stop, I’m gonna make a mess, Ava stop—!” You cry out, eyes watering before tears fall as you struggle to stop the powerful pressure building in your core, hurting you with the intensity as he pushes you further and further. “Your insides are steadily swallowing and sucking my fingers in, aren’t you a little lewd?” He asks, unaffected by your dull nails digging into his forearm, eyes trained on your drooling hole below.

He’s got an iron grip on your hip with his other hand, nails digging into your flesh every time you try to squirm away. “You’re so lovely like this petal.”

He’s fascinated when you break again, clear fluid squirting up and out from your squelching pussy as he continues to shove his fingers in.

You cum so hard it nearly causes you to lose consciousness, eyes rolling back as you twitch and moan as the dam inside you bursts open.

You whine as he pulls free, hand dripping in gooey arousal as he brings it to his lips and slurps it up without any decorum, appearing almost starved as he gazes down at you with the eyes of a predator. “Messy girl~ I’ll teach you though,” his lips pull back to reveal his sharp teeth, “When you feel so good you think you’ll break, you’re supposed to say I’m coming, do you understand?” He asks darkly.

“No more…” your weak plea only makes him smirk, kissing you softly as he slides forward and uses both hands to cover your hips and lift your lower half up.

Your eyes feel heavy as you force them open, slow to realize that his enormous cock is now laid over your pussy, pulsing and dragging back and forth through your slick folds. The thick veiny appendage causes your trepidation to rise, realization dawning that he intends to fit that inside of you.

“It won’t fit—,” you weren’t being cute or coy, because while you may not be human, your form was still the same size as one. He was much, much bigger, and his cock certainly fit his proportions. You try to catch his attention, unable to close your legs with his body between them. “Ava,” He’s truly not hearing you at all, too enthralled and excited as he lubes his massive length up with your juices. He’s shaking a bit too, heart beating rapidly in his chest as he coos down at you mindlessly, golden orbs almost unseeing at this point as he lines up with your entrance.

“So good for me petal~ you’re all mine aren’t you?” He breathes, and you feel the weight and pressure begin as his tip breaches.

“Wait, stop Ava—!” You whine as the sting becomes a burn and then you’re being filled to the point of excess as you struggle to breathe anymore.

“Shh—♡,” he hushes you, pained as well due to the pressure around him, strangling him as he grimaces and drags back out a little before surging forward. “You’re mine now petal,” he groans.

You’re unable to form words as he works his cock into you like a piece which doesn’t quite fit, bullying and stretching you open to forcefully fit himself.

He leans more weight down onto you as you struggle and writhe, noisy cries falling on deaf ears as he feels himself slipping deeper as your body finally gives up on keeping him out. His tip touches your cervix, before shoving even further and smashing it up as your stomach aches in protest.

You lay limp as he finally bottoms out, twitching with your mouth open and drool pooling down your chin as you feel nothing but the feeling of him inside you. He huffs a laugh, the way you look ruined before he’s even gotten started.

You look like a doll in his grasp, his cock extending your stomach a little as it twitches inside you. Your thighs ache as they’re naturally forced up, unable to spread fully enough for him to settle so he’d merely folded you and pressed you down to prevent escape.

“You did it pretty girl, look at you~” he grins, one hand leaving your hip to press on your belly, making your eyes widen and roll back as you whine. “You took every inch of me in this cute cunt didn’t you?” This male over you isn’t familiar, even as his sugary scent seems to increase and smother you, he seems foreign in his words and actions.

The inconsistencies are difficult to track as he drags himself out of you, the fullness replaced by feeling each ridge and bump of veins decorating his cock as he slides out.

Then he’s pushing in again, stealing your breath and ability to think as he starts to fuck you.

“Don’t worry petal, I won’t hurt you,” you can’t quite understand as he pushes his thick rod inside you, brain shutting off as you go pliant in his hold. “I’ll go nice and slow so you never forget,” he moans as you tighten and jerk, “who owns you.” He’s holding back with all his might as you spasm and grip him in inside of you, walls sucking him back in as he moves to exit.

You make him forget.

As you slick his cock up with your juices, he begins to slip in easier, folding you down further into a mating press as he looks down at your teary face. You make him forget all the time he’s spent alone. Your moans increase as he picks up the pace, pounding nice and deep inside of you and ridding you of any thought beside him. He slips a hand down between you both, claws retracted completely as he softly presses on your swollen clit and throws you reeling into another orgasm around him. “Say it petal,” he grits out, the feeling of you tightening drawing his own end. He’s hardly able to move inside you, short thrusts all he can manage as he drags you over the edge.

“I’m coming—!” Your head tips back, neck bared to his eyes as you cum for him obediently.

He fills you up right after, heavy engorged balls drawing up as he pumps his first load of the day into you. His thrusts not stopping as he rocks forward, expression relaxing as his magic swirls inside of you, his mating mark slowly sinking into your soul as he works to keep his seed deep within your womb. You’re too fucked out to notice, the pleasure and pressure overwhelming your senses as you try to rest now.

Except his cock doesn’t soften.

He thrusts hard once he’s sure his bond has settled, feeling you so much deeper in his soul as he drags his cock out almost all the way. “It’s like your little hole misses me already,” he smiles, watching as you flutter around his tip as if to tell him you don’t want him to leave. “Tell me petal,” he slides back inside, jolting you awake as you stare incredulously down at where you both connect. The slick sounds of him slipping into your sticky wet entrance haunting as you whine, hands digging into fine silk as you try to push away.

He only presses you down harder, cock burrowing deep as if to anchor you. His eyes are wild and swirling, the color so bright it’s almost blinding in the dim room. “How does it feel to lose?”

You blank. His question not making any sense as the room spins and you’re overcome again with pleasure so intense it makes your toes and feet curl in the air where they rest.

“How does it feel to be utterly mine for the rest of eternity?” You gasp, tearing at the sheets as he picks up the pace, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to truly fuck you now. Enormous cock working you into a frenzy as you yelp when two fingers pinch painfully around a nipple. “You’re not going back pretty girl,” he laughs, face wicked and beautiful as you look up through blurry eyes spilling tears. “You’ll not return to that filthy human village,” he releases your sore nipple in favor of loosely gripping your throat, feeling your pulse beneath his hand. “You are not in the land of Fae sweet flower,” he lets his lips ghost over yours, his tip bullying your cervix as you writhe and move to claw at his shoulders. “You are in my kingdom, ours, where the corrupted Fae separate themselves,” you’re lost, eyes crossing almost dumbly as you come again, choking as you cry out his name.

You can’t move even an inch, unable to even squirm as you’re forced to take each punishing inch of his cock and he ruts into you.

“Your pussy keeps tightening up when I tell you all the ways you’re mine. Do you like this?” He delights in your pathetic attempt to push at his chest, clearly finished despite his balls still being heavy with his seed he intends to spill into you.

“A-Av-Ava!” You struggle to form even his name, let alone any sentences as he keeps up his fast and brutal pace. Though, from his perspective he was still holding back as he moans and spills himself inside you again.

“Yes flower?” He coos, pushing your hair out of your sweaty face as he pulls out just enough to grip your thigh and turn you on your side, sliding back to the hilt again. He hugs your leg to his chest, working his cock at a new angle in your abused pussy still spilling cum from earlier. “I’m listening,” he chuckles, knowing you can’t speak, aware his cock was keeping you like this.

Words die down as he uses his hand not holding your leg up to grip your hip, holding you still while pushing his hips forward, railing himself inside your exhausted body. Your head rests against the bed, mouth open as your saliva soaks into the sheets, eyes staring at nothing as you feel another impending orgasm approaching.

Ava doesn’t mind, adoring the cute cock drunk expression as he uses you like a toy, filling you up over and over while you slowly lose your mind. “I’m sorry—Ava please, I’m sorry,” your slurred speech and delirious voice make him laugh. Genuinely amused by your rambling, “Why are you sorry petal? I’m not mad,” he catches your lips, tongue invading and swallowing your cries. He finds you so cute.

His cute, stupid little changeling, so trusting and unaware of his unsavory intentions.

You lose consciousness and count when he comes with his hips pressed deeply into your ass, pressing you belly first into his hand as he keeps you angled up to meet his thrusts. Your sensitive chest rubbing against the silk below, body limp as your world goes black and you convulse around him.

This time he lets you fall flat into the soaked bedding, taking his still hard cock out so he can pry apart your pussy lips and watch his release ooze out of your gaping hole.

His golden eyes flick up to your sleeping form, lips pulling as he coos, “Cute~♡” before he’s stuffing you full again, merciless as he leans on one arm to keep from crushing you as he continues to drill into you.

Even when you regain consciousness, trying to crawl away from his torturous pleasure, he only grips your arm and twists it gently behind you to hold. “You’re soaked and so hot inside, do you know how crazy you’re making me?” He groans, almost sounding like he’s in pain as you squeeze and come again. “I’m not letting you go, stop trying to run. You’ve already lost sweet girl.” As he lifts his hips, tip still encased by your wet hot heat, he eyes the slick mess which coats you both and connects you to him. “Go ahead and go crazy too, be good and listen.” He laughs, slamming back in and making your back arch as you nearly scream, feeling him so deep it makes you wonder if he’s going to break you. You really will go crazy, it’s a fleeting thought stolen by his cock once again, but you truly worry as he drowns you with euphoria and madness.

He’s hunched and leaning over your back, letting his tongue and teeth tease your ear so sweetly while he pounds you stupid, whispering to you things you won’t remember.

“You wanted my name so badly, didn’t you my lovely mate?” He knows you don’t understand, but it doesn’t stop him from speaking on, husky voice lulling you as you cry and lose yourself to pleasure. “I’ll tell you since you’re being so good, taking my seed so well~” he lets a little more weight settle on top of you, his cock nestling into your deepest parts with it.

“I am Avarice.”

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satorusugurugurl · 1 month

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My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

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