#having heard about the situation in which they have appointed themselves the Voice of the Students from multiple perspectives | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

odyssean-flower · 5 months

Text

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 8 - Summer: Honeymoon Prelude

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Furina shows up and bothers Neuvillette about his marriage Warnings: None except for the fact that this story is 50% written based on vibes Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please subscribe to the fic there if you’d like to read it faster Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette hanging out at Dvalin's place

Previous | Next

“My dear Iudex, you’ve been making yourself awfully scarce lately, haven’t you?”

The doors of Neuvillette’s office doors flew open along with that voice, belonging to the last person he wanted to see right now. Of course, she chose the perfect moment to make her entrance—during his tea break, when he couldn’t use the excuse of work to force her to leave.

“Lady Furina,” he inclined his head. He had an inkling as to what this conversation was going to be about, and he had prepared himself for it. “I do not quite understand what you mean.”

“You leave the opera house as soon as possible whenever we’re both present at a trial, and your schedule is mysteriously arranged so that you’re out of the office whenever I’m free. How very odd, wouldn’t you agree? It’s almost as if you’re avoiding me, but why ever would you do that?”

Furina put her hand on her hips, a knowing smile on her face. Ah, she wishes to draw this out, Neuvillette thought, then refilled his cup and took a sip of water.

“As you know, Furina, summer is the season when crime rates skyrocket, which means a higher workload. For both of us,” Neuvillette said. “You are, of course, welcome to schedule an appointment with Sedene in the main lobby, if you wish to chat with me. We’ll do our best to accommodate you into our schedule.”

Furina raised an eyebrow. “Are you being serious right now? I’m your superior, and you answer to me, so why do I have to make an appointment to speak to you? And besides, the crime rate has always increased during the summer for the past five hundred years and probably beyond that, and yet I never had any trouble finding you for a chat...until this year. I do wonder what changed.”

“What may be the case for previous years may not be the same for the present. Now, if you will excuse me, my break is almost over.”

Furina glared at him. “You’re really going to drag this out, are you?”

Neuvillette closed his eyes and took another sip of water. “I’m afraid I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Oh, really? Playing dumb is not a good look on you, my dear Chief Justice,” Furina said, then began to walk around the office leisurely. She stopped in front of a framed painting near Neuvillette’s desk. “My, my, what’s this? A new painting in your office? When was the last time you added a new decoration to your office, fifty years ago? Although, I must say, it certainly clashes with the rest of the décor in here, with how gloomy the subject is, and the amateurish technique. Shall I suggest some excellent artists for you to commission?”

“There will be no need for that,” Neuvillette stood up and walked over to Furina, semi-blocking the painting from her view. A simple glimpse of the misty hues and the memories they evoked calmed him slightly. “You have no authority over what I choose to put in my office.”

“Oh?” Furina smirked up at him triumphantly, as though she had landed a point in a game. “So this painting is important to you, eh? Or perhaps...the artist themselves?”

Neuvillette remained silent and turned back towards his desk. He knew Furina for far too long to understand that in situations like these, ignoring her was the best way to handle her.

As he sat back down in his chair, he heard indignant footsteps follow him.

“Quit it, Neuvillette!” Furina slammed her hands down onto his desk and bent down, glaring at him. “I know you’re married!”

“Yes,” Neuvillette said. “I am. In accordance with your wishes, or should I say, orders for me.”

“Is that all you’re going to say to me?”

“What do you mean? I do not see what more there is to say regarding this topic.”

Furina stared at him incredulously, her mouth agape. “You do not see? You, the Iudex of Fontaine, do not see what more there is to say to your Archon , the one who kindly advised you to try experiencing the joys of matrimony, about your marriage ?”

“I did inform you.”

“In a single-sentence letter!” Furina slammed her hands against his desk again, causing him to wince slightly. “One of the most anticipated events in Fontaine’s history, and not even a single notice in the Steambird’s marriage announcement sections! Was there even a wedding, or did you just sign your names in the registry book?”

“The marriage was valid in the eyes of the law.”

“So you didn’t even hold a ceremony?” Furina exclaimed. “I cannot believe this, Neuvillette. The marriage of a man of your rank and status should have been a grand celebration all throughout Fontaine! There should have been a whole month of performances at the opera! Street festivals every day! A beautiful, eight-hour-long ceremony with me officiating!”

“That sounds immensely disruptive to the public order, not to mention a logistics nightmare.”

“So? At least it would be an enjoyable and memorable experience for all the citizens of Fontaine. I bet your idea of a fun celebration would be to stare at the sea for a whole day and making everyone drink your precious water, or something boring like that.”

Neuvillette said nothing. Furina, for all her faults, understood him all too well.

“As a public figure, Neuvillette, you should remember that everything you do affects them, and that they are all watching you. That doesn’t only go for judgments and the like, but also your personal matters. Don’t you think that you owe the people a small share in your newfound happiness?”

Neuvillette’s brow furrowed slightly. Though he admittedly found Furina’s logic puzzling most of the time, he did somewhat see her point, and she did have more experience than him with understanding the thinking of the people...

Furina, sensing him waver, clapped her hands together. “It’s still not too late to make this the event of the year. No, the century! I can contact the Steambird to put up a full page announcement, and we need to get started on wedding planning right away--”

“I am afraid that I must decline,” Neuvillette said, standing up and staring down at Furina. “That was a moving speech you gave, Furina, but you seemed to have forgotten one thing. You were the one who continuously insisted that I get married, but you have stipulated nothing else. A marriage is a private matter between the individuals involved, and they, and only they, have the right to decide how their marriage will be. My wife and I have mutually decided that there will be no ceremony, and we are both perfectly content with that decision.”

“ Both of you?” Furina raised an eyebrow. “How very interesting. Did both of you decide to keep this marriage so private as well?”

“Yes, we have. It was in our best interests.”

“I'm assuming there was no honeymoon as well, also mutually agreed upon by you both? Please tell me you at least took her out on a date!”

Date. Neuvillette startled at that word. He wasn’t sure why. “I have not.”

“And she is perfectly happy with this? You’ve asked her?”

“I fail to see how any of this is relevant to you. As I have told you many times, this is a personal matter between me and my wife.”

Furina shook her head with a mixture of exasperation and pity. “My dear Iudex...it appears that you have completely missed the point of why I made the suggestion for you to marry. And your choice of a bride...I don’t know how you did it, but you seemed to have perfectly matched with someone as dull as you are. Either that, or she is so completely terrified of you that she is merely going along with whatever you tell her.”

“Do not talk about her in that way. You know nothing about her,” Neuvillette gritted out, then stood and glared down at Furina once more, even as he felt seeds of doubt planted in his heart. His wife generally went along with whatever he said. He had always assumed that it was because they had similar temperaments, but could he be mistaken? This was far from the first time that he had mistaken assumptions about humans.

But Furina wasn’t intimidated in the slightest by that stern gaze, which was usually enough to strike fear into the hearts of anyone unfortunate to be on their receiving end. In fact, she let out a loud peal of laughter.

“Oh, this is just perfect!” the Hydro Archon laughed, perching herself on Neuvillette’s desk. “I’ve never seen you react like that for a human before! Your bride must truly be someone extraordinary. I must meet her!”

“No, you will not,” Neuvillette said firmly. “You wished for me to marry, and I have. My wife and I have no need for your meddling in our private lives.”

Though the marriage was a sham, though the strange new feelings that arose within him lately confused him, one singular conviction burned brightly within his heart: to protect the peace of his wife—his friend—no matter what.

As you walked out of the eleavator of the Palais Mermonia to the first floor, you saw groups of people here and there, talking animatedly about something. They were throwing frequent glances at the doors to Neuvillette’s office.

Did something happen? You wondered with not a little bit of worry. You had just left the license office on the seventh floor after asking about your position on the waiting list (you had barely progressed, but you felt a strange sense of relief upon learning that). Originally, you had planned on visiting the office every week to ask about it—you've learned from your short time dealing with the bureaucracy of the Palais that things tended to speed up considerably when you made yourself known frequently.

But recently, you found yourself less...vigilant when it came to such things. It was so easy to relax when you weren’t constantly worrying about your budget and studying rigorously, or when you were living with someone who genuinely seemed to enjoy your company, who looked you straight in the eye instead of past you at someone better.

A knot of tension that you had been carrying around for a long time loosened just a little. You only ever felt this feeling when you were reading about Remuria.

It had become much more difficult to suppress that voice in your head telling you to relax, asking you, “Don't you want more?”

For someone like you, who needed to concentrate wholeheartedly on your own future, having an idle mind was a dangerous thing.

“Sedene, is there something going on with Monsieur Neuvillette?” you asked the Melusine at the front desk, who was nervously looking at the shut doors of the office. She jumped at your voice.

“Oh, Madame!” she exclaimed in a whisper. Was it just your imagination, or did she look even more nervous. “I would highly recommend you to not visit Monsieur Neuvillette right now.”

I wasn’t going to, you thought, but didn’t say it aloud. Visiting him at work seemed to cross an invisible line. “Why not?”

Before Sedene could answer, the doors flew open, and the Hydro Archon herself marched out, looking incensed.

“Don’t you forget, Neuvillette, that I will get my way in the end,” she turned back and declared, then tossed her hair and strode right past you, presumably to her apartments. She didn’t spare a single glance at you.

Whoa. This is the first time I’ve seen Lady Furina up close. She had that same immortal, untouchable aura that Neuvillette also had. Just what you’d expect from a god.

Once she left the main floor, people began to discuss the events that had just occurred loudly and in earnest. You, however, weren’t paying any attention to them. You were looking at Neuvillette’s office, where you could see the man himself standing at his desk, staring down at it. Occasionally, he glanced at something on the wall. You couldn’t see his expression from here, but you didn’t feel you needed to. He was upset.

You looked back at Sedene almost reflexively. “Go,” she nodded encouragingly. You looked around briefly. No one was looking in your direction.

You took in a deep breath to shake off your nerves, even though this was just a simple check-in on your husband? Friend? Neither of those words felt right.

Don’t overthink this. Just keep things natural, you told yourself, then walked inside the office, closing the doors behind you.

You couldn’t help but look around at the office as you approached the desk. It was a lot more spacious than you imagined and had an air of elegance that matched its owner.

Neuvillette didn’t seem to have noticed your entrance. He was still staring at his desk. You could see the deep furrow between his brows, and the frown on his lips. What did he and Lady Furina argue about for him to be brooding over it so much?

Now that you were here, you had no idea what to say. But you couldn’t just leave now. At that moment, you spotted his silver cup, nearly empty. There was a glass pitcher on a side table. You slowly walked over to it and picked it up, then refilled his cup. He looked up at your movements., and his eyes widened when his eyes landed on your face.

“Here, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you offered the water to him. “I think you might need it.”

His hand slowly stretched out to take the cup from you, but his eyes never left your face. “Madame, what are you doing here?”

“W-Well, I, um...” you fidgeted. “I was just visiting the license office, and then, I saw that there was a c-commotion going on here, and then Lady Furina came out, and you looked very...” Your voice trailed off when you saw his expression change. The troubled look on his face was wiped away like a slate being cleaned, and his usual look returned.

“You should not have come here. It is better if you do not visit me at the Palais.”

“Oh...okay,” a wave of disappointment rose up inside your chest. It was understandable, really. Your relationship with Neuvillette needed to be kept as low-key and secretive as possible, and you shouldn’t interrupt him at work—it would only distract him (were you a distraction? Did you qualify as one?). Besides, visiting his workplace was such a...wifely thing to do. “I’m sorry. I was just worried about how you were doing, but I can just ask you at home. I’ll take my leave now, sir. Goodbye.”

“No, please wait, Madame,” Neuvillette came around to your side of the desk as you slowly backed away. “I apologize for my earlier brusqueness. I was not myself. Please, feel free to stay here.”

“I shouldn’t...” you said. It was clear that Neuvillette was trying his best to maintain his polite demeanour. “I would only distract you from your important work.”

“I could use a distraction right now,” Neuvillette said. Wow, that fight with Lady Furina must have been bad, you thought. “And I would very much like to talk to you. That is, if you would like to. I do not wish to force you. ”

Something in his voice made you stop backing away. It almost sounded like a plea.

You sat down on the blue couch next to his desk, and Neuvillette likewise sat down in his chair.

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke. You stared at the wall across from you, at the gramophone in the corner, at the window behind him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neuvillette staring at the papers on his desk, occasionally taking a sip of water.

Should I ask what happened, or should I wait for him to talk about it, you puzzled over the dilemma. Neuvillette wasn’t the type to talk about himself, so it would probably be better if you brought it up, but on the other hand, what if the argument with Furina was about something confidential, like trials or governance, something not meant for you to know?

Surprisingly, it was Neuvillette who spoke first.

“Madame, earlier you said that you were visiting the license office. How did it go?”

“Huh?” you blinked in confusion. That was unexpected. “Oh, um, well, I suppose. I haven’t progressed much on the waiting list at all.”

“Ah, I see. How unfortunate to hear. But don’t lose heart, I have no doubt that you will get your license in due time.”

Neuvillette’s expression didn’t change much as he said those words. You weren’t sure what you were expecting.

“Yes, I know. I hope so too.”

Another silence. You decided to use this opportunity to ask him about his argument with Furina. “So--”

“The sunflower seeds you’ve planted seem to be growing well. They seem to be growing taller every time I see them.”

“...They are, although it would take more than a month before they can bloom.”

It had been a few weeks since your parents sent you the sunflower seeds. You decided to plant them by the front door as well as in the garden, near the porch door. Despite Neuvillette’s mysterious promise to “do something about the rain,” you had been prepared to go outside to water the seedlings frequently, but sure enough, there had been a full two weeks of rain. Not the long and violent rainstorms of the earlier rainy season, but briefer, gentler showers that were suitable for young, fragile sprouts. These rains seemed to belong in spring rather than summer.

When you had remarked upon the timeliness and aptness of the rains to Neuvillette, he had said something vague like, “Perhaps someone out there heard your request,” but was amusingly disgruntled when you suggested that the “someone” was most likely Furina, who being the God of Hydro was the most logical answer. “I have my doubts about that,” was all he said.

You weren’t a fool. You knew that Neuvillette probably used his powers to make it rain. Of course, that was just an assumption, since he disappointingly never used his powers in front of you. For all you knew, he could only breathe fire or something. But still, it was fun to tease him a little by thanking Furina out loud whenever it rained.

“They would be a sight to behold when the time comes,” Neuvillette said. “I am very much looking forward to it.”

You nodded. “We should take pictures and invite the Melusines.”

Now was your chance to ask him. “But putting that aside, what—”

“Speaking of the Melusines, I’ve heard from them that they have been enjoying your drawing lessons very much.”

You stared at him. He was definitely doing this on purpose. “I’m glad to hear that, it was enjoyable for me as well,” you said at last when Neuvillette showed no sign of relenting.

“Were there any difficulties?”

“It was tough at first,” you admitted. “Since Melusines don’t have fingers, so it was difficult for me to teach them how to grip a pencil properly. And the way they see color is different from humans, too, which leads to a lot of fascinating results when it comes to coloring. But other than that, they are all very good students.”

Neuvillette nodded, smiling a little, as he always did when the topic of Melusines came up. “It must be good for you as well, to gain teaching experience.”

It was indeed. You used to help as a teaching assistant at the schoolhouse in your hometown, but ever since you moved to the Court of Fontaine, you had mainly focused on book studying and hardly gained any practical experience.

“Enough about me,” you said firmly. Neuvillette didn’t seem to have any intention of speaking about the argument at all, and it bothered you deeply. "I want to ask about—”

“How do you think of taking our honeymoon?” Neuvillette said at the same time.

“Huh?” You stood up and walked over to him. Were your ears working correctly just now? “I don’t believe I heard you right. Did you just say ‘honeymoon.’?”

“Yes,” Neuvillette said, then took another sip of water. “Or, um, it could be a date, if you would prefer to think of it that way.”

Once again, you stared at him with incredulity. He was avoiding your gaze.

“What brought this on?” you asked, but the answer came to you at once. “Did Lady Furina have something to do with it?”

Neuvillette said nothing. He was really going to drag this out, wasn’t he, you thought. Feeling a stab of annoyance, you moved over to the side of the desk and bent down so that you were looking him directly in the eye.

“Monsieur, let me repeat my question once again. Is your argument with Lady Furina behind this proposal?”

“Yes,” he breathed, staring back into your eyes. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but you pressed on.

“Did the argument have to do with our marriage?”

“...Yes,” he said, and then cleared his throat. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

“Alright, then,” you said at last. “I will go on this honeymoon or date or whatever with you.”

“You will?” Neuvillette looked genuinely surprised. “I do not want you to feel pressured. You are under no obligation to accept. I...do not want you to agree because you are afraid of me.”

Now you felt concerned. “Do I seem afraid of you, sir?”

There was a discomforting pause before he answered, “I do not know. I am not good at discerning these sorts of things.”

“Then, allow me to make it clear,” you said and straightened up. “I am not doing this out of fear or intimidation of you. I’m agreeing out of my own desire to find out just what exactly is troubling you. This is the same for anything you ask of me.”

Neuvillette stared at your face. Something he saw there must have convinced him, for you felt an invisible tension disappear from him. “I’m very pleased to hear that.”

The two of you smiled at each other for a moment, then looked away.

“So, when are we going on this honeymoon?” you asked to distract from the delicate atmosphere that had appeared. “I should start preparing right away.”

“Tomorrow,” Neuvillette replied, like it was natural to simply go on vacations the very next day. “It will only be for a day, I’m afraid.”

“Tomorrow?” you exclaimed. “So soon?”

“Why not tomorrow? In my experience, it is always better to take action right away.”

“But...but, what about your duties. The crime rates?”

“I am going to arrange for my subordinates to handle a part of my work. There are no trials tomorrow, and I have faith that the Palais can do without me for one day. You don’t have any plans tomorrow as well, Madame?”

You shook your head. “Then...have you already decided where we’re going to go?”

“I have. It’s somewhere I have wanted to take you to for some time.”

You felt your cheeks turn red despite yourself. “I-I see. Then I’m sure it must be somewhere amazing.”

In addition to your worry and concern about Neuvillette, there was now a thin thread of excitement. You had never really travelled before. And now the Chief Justice himself was personally taking you somewhere.

You wandered around the office, your dormant imagination going wild. Since it was Neuvillette, it must be a place with lots of water. Maybe he was taking you to the beach? Did you need to buy swimwear? Would Neuvillette bring swimwear? You briefly attempted to imagine him swimming before immediately pushing that thought out of your mind. It felt indecent.

“Wait...” you stopped in front of a very familiar painting. It was jarring against the brightly lit room and even the gilt frame surrounding it. How had you not noticed it before? “You hung my painting in your office?”

“Ah, yes,” Neuvillette walked over to you. “I found that this was the most suitable place for it.”

He then noticed your distressed expression, and his face fell. “...Do you not want me to hang it here?”

“Oh, no, no, not at all,” you shook your head. “It’s my gift to you, so you should do whatever you like with it, it’s just that...”

“Yes?” Neuvillette prompted you.

“It’s just that...it looks so out of place here. If I had known you were going to put it here, I would have painted something better.”

“There is no need for that,” Neuvillette said. “I enjoy looking at it. It brings me calm, particularly on bright, stressful days like these. I feel as though I am looking out a window into the rain.”

“Oh!” Your voice cracked, and you felt lightheaded. You hadn't considered it anything special, you just wanted to show your gratitude to him and hoped he found it pleasing. You assumed that he put it in his study or something, but you never expected for him to put it here, where doubtless so many important people visited. And yet it was hung up proudly, like the work of a master.

I enjoy looking at it. It brings me calm.

You felt extremely embarrassed—but also an overpowering joy that you hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.

“I-I see,” you stuttered out. What was going on? A moment ago, you felt utterly calm, and now you were acting like a nervous schoolgirl. You slowly backed away. “A-As the a-artist, I-I'm, um, very happy to hear that.”

Neuvillette frowned. “Are you alright, Madame?”

You could only imagine the expression on your face right now. “Y-Yes, sir. I’m perfectly fine. I should really take my leave now and leave you to your duties. I’ll, um, see you at home!”

You turned your back to a dumbfounded Neuvillette and opened the doors, then peeked outside. The Gestionnaires were all bent over their typewriters. You slipped outside.

You did your best to maintain your composure as you walked out of the Palais, and descended in the elevator, before inexplicably breaking into a run, all the way back home.

Previous | Next

@just-simping-over-genshin, @xalphafox, @jqnehr, @favficdump, @thetwinkims, @cielclassy, @the-mxs-of-many, @mxyarylla, @lynettezz

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #the winding path of fate #my works

112 notes · View notes

kelppsstuff · 3 months

Text

Benevolence

Chapter one: Vivian

Warnings: cussing

Word count: 1851

Masterlist

I thought it was the happy hotel, not Hazbin. I thought to myself while staring up at the sign above the giant building. Well, it’ll be good to see Charlie again. I knocked on the door and waited. I could hear everyone in the lobby freaking out trying to get themselves situated– quite funny might I add. The person to open the door was a women, with an x over her eye. Interesting. “Hel–” I didn’t get to finish before she closed the door in my face, rude. I heard her started to freak out with the rest of who I presume are the staff. “Alastor! One of the commandments is at the door!” The voice who i believed belonged to Alastor had a radio effect on it.

“Oh what a sense of de-ja vu.” The door opened again to revel red. So much red. Red suit, red eyes, red cane, and antlers. The radio demon was a deer, who knew. “Welcome my dear! How can we help you?” There’s the manners a hotel should have.

“I’m looking fo dear Charlie, her father set up an appointment for her with the head of the exterminators.” The cat dropped a bottle and the spider fell over, well nothing. “She’s just getting ready for the day!” Good. I walked through the door, which should honest get a better bellhop. I waited as the first women I saw went to get Charlie. It was so obvious she was an angel I wondered if Charlie knew – of course I wouldn’t snitch.

The princess of Hell came running, full on sprinting down the stairs so fast I don’t even know if she touch one of them. “Did dad really set up a meeting?” She had stars in her eyes, It was nice to see how much she actually admire her dad. “Wants to help your Hotel, in any way he can. The only condition is I go with you.”

“Why?”

“Let’s say the leader isn’t a fan of your family.”

—

She started singing. She actually started singing. Sometimes I forget how much people in the after life sing. Even Heaven sings a lot. By the time we got to the sign in she looked at me – now done singing – and looked confused. I smiled at her and ranged the bell, a page appearing before us. I signed us in and the doors opened. Here we go. Charlie looked around calling out for someone. “Hellooooo? Anyone here.” It was pitch black but I could still see the silloutee of Adam. Yep Adam, the first man. “Sup.” The lights flicked on and charlie stepped back into me. I steadyed her before taking a seat.

“Oh hi, I’m Charlie my dad set up this meeting for me.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you.” She started to walked to him as he stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you too.” But she didn’t shake his hand as her hand went through him. He was a hologram. “HAHAHA! I got you! You see that shit Lute?” He turned to the other angel who just nodded at him. “What about you babe? You seen that?” Did he seriously just call me babe? Imma kill myself. “Wasn’t paying attention.” He nodded up and down and looked to Charlie. “It was good shit!”

“Well anyways I’ve been working on the project–” I took this as my que to teleport her notes in front of her with the snap of my finger. “And I really wanna get into it.” But she was sushed before she could even start, as Adam put his hand up. “Slow down, we’ve got time. Want some food, I got just the thing.” He held up a plate of ribs. God Charlie don’t fall for it again. “Oh thank you.” Her hand went through the plate, and I meedietly slapped my head. What a dumbass respectfully. “I got you again bitch! You see it that time babe!”

“Not my name and no I didn’t.” I wasn’t going to indulge him. I never indulge anyone. His mask frowned and his eyes brows pulled together.

—

“So I was playing this gig–” Of course he’s a rock star. “And this virtue chick was digging on the drummer.” He then turned to me to see if I was paying attention to his story. “And I’m like do you know who I am, I’m fucking Adam. I’m the original dick, every dick decens from me, and you think you want drummer dick?” He was speaking as if anyone who didn’t immediately want him was fucking stupid. “So then we fucked and it was great.” What a lovely tale. “What you two do this weekend?”

“Wait your Adam, like first man.That explains so much.” The said man just smiled and stuck his hand up saying. “I know I fucking rock.”

“Well, Adam, Sir, Sir Adam.” She was fumbling and his next words did not help. “Call me dickmaster.” I glared at his masked face. “Adam.” I said my voice final.

“Say my name all you want babe.” Imma throw hands with him I swear to god.

“Anyways, Adam, you seem like a smart stand up guy.”

“Uh huh.” Picking at his teeth. Are you serious?

“I know your the leader of the angels, your a revelational genius.”

“I mean your words sweetheart.”

“Who would want to put his name on something.”

“I fucking love putting my name on shit!”

Charlie walked over to him and put her hands out in a grand gesture way. “It’s a solution to our biggest problem.” He looked to Charlie and smacked his lips. “Oh herpes yeah thats a bitch.” Welllll, I suppose he’s not entirely wrong. “No! Our second biggest problem.”

“Oh ugly people?” My eye twitched. He looked to me with a fucking smirk that I woud wipe off in an instant if he were someone else. I suppose he finally did get a reaction out of me. “Math? Global warming? No thats Earth’s issue. Uhhhhhhh.”

—

“You mean when you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay! But wasn’t she like ‘hey I want equality’!” I raised my eye brow to him and looked him up and down. “Hard to believe you could get to a fifth date.” Now it was his eye that twitched. Before he could make a comeback Charlie groaned.

“No our shared problem of over population in hell!”

“OHHHHHH! That’s not a problem. Lute how many demon you kill this year?” The angel at his eye finally spoke up. “Got a good 275 sir.”

“275! Woah, awesome job!” The angel fist bumed her boss and glared at me. Fucking bitch. “No! Not awesome, those are my people, my friends.”

Adam nodded his head put his hands together. “Must suck for you!” Charlie heart looked broken listening to them, and this is exactly why Lucifer sent me with her. “Watch it. That’s royalty our speaking too. And sinners and saints souls are no different, death comes for both, and they both live a life.” Lute glared at me trying to burn a hole through my skull while Adam titled his head.

“Sinners may have made mistakes, but so has everybody.” Lute turned her glare to Charlie. “Angels don’t make mistakes.” I wasn’t going to let her continue her bullying, I’m over this shit. “Tell that to your bloody uniform, how bout you wash it. Would hateee for your secret to get out.”

“Listen to Lute babe, I’ve never made a mistake in my fucking life.”

“The only reason your here is beacsue daddy gave you and your hell born kind a pardon. How does it feel to know how little you matter.” This bitch. I stood up and yanked her away from Charlie. My hand didn’t go through her hologram. My hand was burning like fucking hell, but I had enough power to reach her as long as they were being projected here.

Her eyes widened as I pushed her to the ground. “Watch you fucking mouth, or next extermination I’m coming for you.” Before I could take another step Adam cleared his throat. “I guess we should hurry this up.” Charlie pirked up at that while she started to sing her little presentation to Adam – all the while I was keeping my glare on Lute.

“Let me stop you right there save us all precious time. (oh okay) if what your suggesting is letting them climb up the latter. Oh they rather cross the pearly gates.” Okay, I’ll admit it, his voice is fucking awesome. “Sorry sweetie but theres no defying their fates cause hell is forever weather you like it or not. Had their chance to behave better now the boil in a pot, cause the rules are black and white. Theres no use in tryin to fight it, there burininn for there life until we kill the again.” I started to speak up but he put his finger up to my mouth, stopping me. “Just try and relax babe, your wasting your breath. Did I hear you imply that they don’t deserve death?” I started to back up pushing Charile with me. “Are they winners? Are they sinners? Cause it’s cut dry. (well actually if you take a look at this–) Fair is fair, an eye for an eye. When all said and done. (Said and done) Theres the question of fun. And for those of us with divine ortainment, extermination is entertainment! Gutair solo fuck yeah!” He started to fly around with Lute while other angels appeared around us. “Cause hell is forever weather you like it or not, had their chance to do better now they boil in a pot. The rules are black and white, there no use tryin to fight it. (Where did all of you people come from?) There burning for their life until we kill them again. FUCKING HELL!” He brought out a guiatr and now I know the part he played in his band. “Is forever and it meant to suck a lot. You have to give up your endeavor cause you don't have a shot! He flew up beside me and leaned against my body he was slightly gitching, but I could feel him – just barely – but I still did. He was cold. “Now that I have your attention I guess I should mention that we made a determination! To move up the next extermination! (What?)” I pushed him off me and and turned to him, pure shock on my face. This mother fucker. My eyes started to glow purple and I could feel my power running through my veins begging to be released. “Can’t wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts, I know it’s been a week but we’ll be back in six months.” And the he pushed us both out the door. Charlie was quick to try and get back into the room but it closed quickly. “Shit!” Imma fucking tear their souls apart and have them feast on it before ripping there throats out.

#adam x reader #adam is actually hilarious #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #oc #series #hazbin

24 notes · View notes

clouds-rambles · 3 years

Note

hello!~ o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

can i request headcanons for kaeya, diluc, childe, and venti on what they would while their s/o dies in their arms? (if thats okay with u <3)

thank u sm! :))

BESTIE THE PAIN I FEEL RN!!! Omw to make hurt some of my faves hope you enjoy <3

Also guys I’ve been here for a day how are there almost 50 of you following?!

Pairings; (Separate) Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Venti x reader

Warning(s); hurt, big hurty, reader death, vague wound description, cursing, talk about dead bodies

Keep reading under the cut!

Kaeya

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were meant to live forever with him. You were supposed to grow old with him and become a parent to your future children. You were-

“Kaeya” you choke out smiling at your partner above you. The man shakes his head mentally pleading with you to not die “Kaeya I will always be on the wind” you tell him, a shaky, bloody hand raised to his cheek to weekly caress it

“Please” he pleads “Please don’t die on me [name]” you smile at him feeling the breaths in your lungs disappear

“I’m sorry Kae--ya” you apologise before passing away in his arms

He doesn’t move for a long time. He doesn’t feel for a long time. The one person he could share his secrets and his love to gone. Away with the wind

Kaeya doesn’t remember the last time he cried, but he’ll remember this one.

Your beaten, bruised, broken, dead, and beautiful body slumped in his arms as his tears fall from his face as he feels an absence in his heart

How is he supposed to live on if this is the pain he feels right now?

Jean eventually stumbles upon Kaeya out in the wilds, still clutched to your now cold and even more lifeless body

Jean manages to get the man up with your body held close to his chest

“Jean, I can’t, I can’t let them go” he pleads as if he’s waiting for you to simply wake up in his arms

“Kaeya...” Jean says in a concerned tone having never seen him in such a state, even he seemed to quickly recover from his fathers death

Eventually Jean coaxed Kaeya to go back to the city and leave your body in the hands of the sisters. Where they dressed you up and prepared a funeral service for you

The funeral was larger than Kaeya was expecting, you had affected a many more people than he realised from your small jobs around the city. Kaeya can’t help but be awed at how many people you’ve helped while you were in Mond

The usual chatter of Mondstat is quiet and in a time of grieving for about a week or so, many people have wonderful memories of you and Kaeya seems to be collecting them all, that and bunches of flowers. Many of which find themselves laying on your tombstone as Kaeya tells you about his day

A month passes and it seems like everything's back to normal, Kaeya is back to his outgoing self. He spends more nights at the tavern, but even Diluc doesn’t have the heart to cut him off.

Jean seems to pick up on the smallest things, goddamnit Jean, the extra nights at the tavern, the eyebags, the weeping she can hear from his room. In it’s own right is heart-breaking, the acting Grandmaster cannot imagine what it’s like to be actually experiencing that kind of pain

Diluc

No, not like this

You had both decided that night to join each other in your little vigilante escapade. Which was fine you had both done this before, but tonight resulted in something very different

Here you are, head on Dilucs lap. This could be considered romantic, and often was, were it not for the fact you felt like you choked up a mixture of your lung and your bloody supply

“Diluc” you speak with a much worse for wear voice, the red-head looks into your eyes, eyes already gaining moisture. A similar scene has befallen him before, a Diluc knows how this ends

“Please” he pleads his voice wavering “Please don’t leave me” he chokes back a sob and tears fall off his face the salt hitting your own

“I love you so much” you start, Diluc shakes his head. Must you hurt him so with last words? “Don’t blame yourse-” another set of hacking befalls you as you lose more blood

“Please” he pleads again as the grip you had on his arm goes slack indicating your loss of life

Diluc screams, he cries and he hugs you close. He screams into the air of Mondstat until his voice hurts and he cries until all he’s doing is dry sobbing and he holds you close until you’re broken body is pried from his own broken mind

A wondering Jean heard his screams into the night sky and hereby answered them. She never expected to see Diluc, still in his vigilante getup, crying over your body

She calls for more guards who take your body from his and Jean helps Diluc get back to the estate. At one point during the walk Jean can feel DIluc shaking and hyperventilating. So they stand for a moment, Jean holds and comforts the wine-master before they move again

Jean has never seen such emotion from Diluc before, and she wholeheartedly hopes she’ll never have to see it again. Seeing Diluc so raw and rife with emotion is enough to make anyone cry. And Jean nearly did on more than one occasion.

Your funeral is small, much to Dilucs request and really only were attended by the estate and Jean. Diluc didn’t want to cry again in such a large audience

Though the maids often hear pained sobs coming from Dilucs room as he contemplates and often blames himself for what had transpired. Maids daren’t speak up about what they hear though, Diluc’s pain is more than understandable

Diluc throws himself into work opting to man the bar most days of the week and fighting for the city as often as he can. People around him are more than concerned

Diluc’s stoic nature seems to be intensified now, not wanting to let another person in and die in his arms. He’s seen enough death for his life and wishes not to lose more loved ones

Everything seems to have moved back to what life was before you arrived in your life, depressive, monotonous, boring, mundane for the most part and sad. So very sad

He wishes for a day where his heart isn’t strife with grief, but he doubts that day will not be coming anytime soon

Childe

You grin up at him, feeling close to naught pain coming from the gaping wound thanks to the excess of adrenaline that’s pumping through your body

“Childe” you say the smile still on your lips in an attempt at not making the situation as dark and horrific as it is. Childe speaks your name in return

“I love you” you tell him mustering the strength to cup the mans cheek, who immediately nuzzles into it. The situation almost doesn’t feel real to him. He’s going to be shaken awake by a very unwounded you in just a moment and inform him he’s having a nightmare

But that moment doesn’t come. Nor do any words come from you. Your slow rhythms of your heart remind you that he’s still got time, but you’ve expended all your energy. Your smile you’re wearing seems to be dropping

“I love you [name], I love you so much, you are everything I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you” he rambles bringing your body to his chest

“Live for--- me” you sputter out into his chest, a dying wish that Childe isn’t too sure he can uphold. Is it really living if he’s an empty vessel.

You go limp in his arms and he can no longer sense your heartbeat. Death had finally laid claim to you

Childe sits with you for hours, you’d expect him to be wailing like a banshee if you knew his personality but that’s rather not the case. Sobbing quietly is a better word for what happens. Most of his sobs and hacks for air are hidden in your hair. He pulled your body to his shoulder just to weep

Eventually he finds himself mustering the courage to walk back to Liyue Harbour. You firmly held in his arms. He knows that if he walks too plainly the Millelith would pry and ask too many questions for his fragile heart to answer

Childe ends up barging into the wangsheng funeral parlour, which surprises Zhongli a little. He’s about to go on a rant to Childe about how he must book an appointment, until he sees your lifeless body in his arms

The funeral is arranged quickly and neatly. There aren’t many people who attend, Childe is okay with that, he secretly wants to see his family and cry on their shoulder a bit

Instead he opts for a letter, which arrives to the family tear stained and lacking the usual penmanship ‘I’m sorry, you won’t be able to see [name] after all. They passed away not too long ago...’ he basically writes your arbitrary in the letter. And his whole heart is in every word he writes

Determined not to let anybody in Childe finds himself in a pattern, when he’s not throwing himself into battles he’s doing paper work or yelling at his subordinates and when he’s not doing that he’s doing his weekly fight with the traveller. Childe gets next to no sleep and instead opts to reading and rereading every letter and note you’ve ever given him

If Childe passes out at his desk nobody bothers him either in fear of getting yelled at by the harbinger or an understanding of losing a loved one

They never said being a harbinger was fulfilling work. Yet, he let himself believe that he could be fulfilled and content with a lover. What a shameful lie

Venti

He’s awfully quiet. He hasn’t experienced death in so long. Especially one he thought would be forever.

He couldn’t even get to you to hear your last words. Ironic isn’t it? He hadn’t heard that guys last words either. And yet this pains him so much more

Sure mortal lives are fleeting but he was certain he had more time with you. More time to see you grow old, more time to put off your inevitable mortality. More time to-

He’s hyperventilating, Venti’s body shakes as he finds nothing to ground himself not even the person he loves so dear is there for him. He feels like he could explode, breaths caught in his throat refusing to surface and come up for air. Despite being an immortal archon, the breaths that refuse to surface don’t fail to make him feel like he’s choking

A bard he is. And one that knows every song from the past, present and future. Suddenly the pained songs from the future make sense to him. He knew what was written. A love lost

Suddenly he finds himself crying and hunched over your deceased form making promises to the wind that he’ll never forget you. Much like he’ll ever forget that bard

He isn’t sure how long has passed but he’s still sobbing over your form, there aren’t many tears left for him to cry but he can’t find himself stopping. He feels like they’ll never stop.

Maybe he could lay beside you and sleep for another thousand years. But that would only delay the inevitable. The inevitable sinking feeling.

Maybe it was his fault for letting himself fall in love with a mortal, but in the moment he could truly see you living life with him. He could see a marriage, children. He wanted you to have it all.

Damn celestia and all things above for not letting you ascend, at least when he inevitably ascends you’ll be there to greet him. Curse that and your mortality

Jean eventually stumbles upon him during a recon mission to find him covering your body in various flowers, a crown made of cecelias don your head. He’s quiet, but he’s saying goodbye. Who would blame him? Jean doesn’t interrupt him and only wishes you a farewell

News of your death spread around town like wildfire, your grave donned with more flowers than Venti can count. He almost feels bad about not doing a public service after seeing how many people are truly in mourning

Diluc doesn’t push Venti to pay his growing tab no matter how much he should. And Diluc doesn’t say no to Venti singing his happy tunes in the tavern

It feels like his life has retuned to normal. Though Jean can’t help but look out the library window to see Venti sat atop his statue with an expression, as Jean can only guess, of sadness.

Venti finds himself going back to an old schedule again but he can’t miss the nagging feeling of somethings missing. The something being you

Sometimes he half expects you to hug him from behind, or join him up at the statue, or kiss him on his nose, or-

Venti can’t quite comprehend how he feels, he just knows there’s a hole in his heart where you belonged. And he doesn’t want to let anyone find their way into there

He doesn’t want to lose again

It’s happened too much

1K notes · View notes

ktheist · 3 years

Text

take my whole life too | m

muses. jeongguk x heir!reader

genre. chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.

words. 5k

warnings. dad!jeongguk, house husband!jeongguk, simp!jeongguk, implied smut verging on actual smut, mentions of break up and arguments

you never gave much thought for jeon jeongguk - not for how he looks, not for how much he makes, not for how compatible you are together. nothing. so much for promising to stay together through health and sickness till death do you apart.

but that’s just the thing, you were willing to let go of your heart in exchange for the wealth of your family. which is inherently yours until the findings of your grandfather’s will appointing his administrators the task of safeguarding the billions of dollar estate against his unmarried granddaughter who to be fair, has always had her eyes on that bejeweled ring of his. it’s less about the diamond and more about what possessing - legally, of course - the ring could do. for one, nobody could challenge your legitimacy as the chairman of luxean. and boy, do your overbearing aunties like to nitpick every little thing you do at the board meeting just to put their sons and daughters in a better light.

so yeah, you would say sacrificing your non-existent possibility of falling in love would suffice. plus, jeongguk can go shopping for convertibles with a swipe of a card, fly from london to italy to greece and back to london within one night. heck, he can even have a steamy hot night with the locals and bring back a greek goddess of a mistress if he wanted to.

except for one problem: he wants to do all those things with you.

well, considering how he stripped down to just pants with the buckle undone and protrusion of well defined abs that leads to a tantalizing v-line beneath the contrasting black band of his calvin klein halfway to the bedroom of your suite after the ceremony, completely disregarding the fact you never spoke to him unless you were in the presence of other people - watching eyes - and the limited time you have to change into your second outfits, you figured he’d want more than just hot and steamy nights in paris and peaceful quiet mornings in athens in your sundress and off white spring hats.

he either hasn’t figured out that he’s just a tool for you to gain public opinion or he doesn’t particularly care as long as he’s getting some.

“you’re leaving?” the voice that asked the very obvious question bears a sort of despondency to it.

when you turn to face the man lying naked - and looking like a well sculpted greek god at that - in the bed, you curse yourself for forgetting the one simple thing that you promise yourself not to do: look at him in the eye. by god, you’ve never seen anyone - any man - who could be so good at weakening your resolution and making you want to climb into bed and cuddle him like a puppy.

“didn’t soyeon tell you i have a meeting?” you manage to sound casual about it for the most part as you put on the earrings that lie abandoned on the vanity when jeongguk came in just before you were almost done with your make up and bent you over the vanity to fuck you once before carrying you to the bed and fuck you in your sensitive state.

“i know,” he mumbles.

and when only silence follows suit, you can’t help but let your hands rest on your hip as you raise your eyebrows, “but?”

it takes a moment of the man trapping his bottom lip between his teeth and leaving it with a sort of pinkish shine when he releases it, “can we have another go?”

“you’re hard?” this time, the surprise in your voice is unconcealable, “again?”

“i know - i’m sorry - it’s just... that dress looks really good on you,” he doesn’t even bother to hide his ogling.

so to answer the question of whether you fucked him that time at your suite when you were supposed to change, yes you did.

“sounds like a you kind of problem,” you wave with the hand that picked up your purse - all your essentials already there, “go out and have a look at athens before we fly for london tomorrow - oh and maybe grab some dinner for yourself.”

“when will you be back?” as much as you like to think you’re indifferent to your husband, you can’t help but think he looks endearing for shying away from your gaze and rubbing the back of his head hesitantly, “i thought maybe we could have dinner together.”

there’s a strain in his voice but you brush it off, shrugging, “what do you think meetings like this are held over? i am going for dinner,” you want to take that back as soon as it escaped your lips but instead, you turn around, “anyways, don’t wait up.”

that’s one habit that he seems to have - waiting for you until you climb into bed with him after long hours of frying your eyes in front of the laptop in the common area.

either way, you strut out of your suite, leaving your husband with a semi-hard cock, you didn’t miss the way it twitched at your blatant rejection just before you turned your back on him.

and so you go about your day, the meeting coming to a close flawlessly as with a signed contract and a meal worthy of the restaurant’s reputation. by the time you thought the approaching figure from the corner of your eyes is the waiter bringing your desserts, kim taehyung was in the middle of thanking you “for meeting me on such a short notice, on your honeymoon at that.”

“i should thank you for reaching out to my secretary when you heard i’d be here too,” you chuckle, hand pushing a stray hair to the back of your ear before your gaze travels up to meet the man’s, “my grandfather always says, there’s no security on this earth, only opportunity,” raising the wine glass mid air, you offer him a smile, “and god does not help anyone seize it unless they do so themselves.”

“the late chairman was a wise man,” he raises his own glass, only to freeze at an awkward angle when the waiter finally approaches you.

except it isn’t the waiter.

it’s-

“___,” a voice fills your ears like velvet on skin, you already know who it belongs to before you even look up at the man whose out-of-character furrowed brows and pressed lips all but makes you want to shoot up from your seat and spout out explanations you don’t even owe him, “i thought i’d pick you up since it’s,” he checks his rolex - it was the first thing you bought him after assessing his lack of accessory after you’d both signed the contract, “half an hour till midnight and the polignotou isn’t going to wait for us.”

taehyung is the one to break the silence, “it seems i’ve taken up too much of your time.”

before you can even refute it, he’s already standing up and fixing his blazer before stepping to the side to properly face your husband.

“congratulations of your marriage, mr. jeon,” then he turns to you, his smile just as excellent at yours when it comes to hiding your emotions and that could only mean that tonight is drawing to an end on a bad note thanks to your husband’s interruption, “mrs. jeon.”

and with a final words of ‘i’ll have my secretary send you the papers soon’, he’s gone like the wind.

“what are you doing here? i told you i had a meeting! not gallivanting with some greek men!” the words come out in a low hiss when he takes the abandoned seat across from you as you gaze around the vicinity in case there are other business acquaintances that happen to know you.

“i’m sorry -” he mumbles out, “i was walking down the streets and i saw you at the balcony of the restaurant and-” he stops short of his words, tongue darting out over his lower lip for the briefest moment.

“and?” you echo, brows arched.

“i got jealous of seeing you with another guy,” his voice is barely above whisper but you hear it loud and clear.

you’re almost sure that you’ve slipped but and let your eyes narrow at him like a puzzle that you can’t figure out but it’s gone in a heartbeat as you pick up your purse and clear your throat. possibly in search for the right words to say but perhaps also an admittance of your caught-off-guard situation.

either way you stand up, “let’s go, the street starts getting scarcer by 2 and i’d rather stay safe and walk with more people than less.”

you did end up walking.

it was a halfway walk but it’s still a walk, that was, until you saw jeongguk pulling on the material of his pants every two minutes. the lack of lights did well to hide it but even then, your eyes automatically pans towards the noticeable protrusion in between his legs. as if your body has completely adapted to his scent - that subtle but evident scent of masculinity, his gaze - the pure, unadulterated desire within the shadows in his eyes and his touch - the way his hand seems to inch lower down your ass before he traces back up to settle on the dip of your spine before it left you cold and unattended when he started to tug on his pants.

“jeongguk -ah, fuck,” you bite back the moan that spills over your lips, “you’re making too much noise.”

“yeah?” his voice bears a lull to it as he thrusts in and out of you in the way that makes your legs come together and your heart leap all the way to your throat as your hands grip onto the dampened cart jeongguk pushed you against in the closest alleyway you were walking towards before he bent you over, lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down.

not even a minute passed before you felt him inside you. and by god, did you feel filled to the brim. the sheen of sweat coating your skin is cold against the chilly night air, the sinful sounds echoing off the walls makes you pray for the first time in a long time that no one is nearby and the way jeongguk is hitting all your sweet spots has you gritting your teeth in hopes that it’d be one less sound to get you arrested for public indecency.

in a country that you’re not a citizen of, at that.

you’re not sure how you got back to your suite and how the hell did you switch into your night dress but you have an inkling that it has something to do with the man whose arm traps you against a hard, muscled body when you started shifting to wake.

his breath fans the back of your neck as he slurs his words but you can make out a ‘five more minutes’ after a grumble and a faint ‘chaeyoung’ at the end.

“no,” you’re not sure what or who you’re saying the words of rejection to, but you slam a fist into arm that’s holding you, “let me go! jeongguk! let me go!”

he finally does at the bloodcurdling scream that could wake up the whole city. but somehow security hasn’t come bursting through the door and the streets in front of your room hasn’t halted its hustling and bustling.

“wh-what happened?” jeongguk’s wide eyes scan the room for the one, solid minute before they rest on you but instead of settling with the deduction that your scream was caused by his own entrapment - possibly the unfamiliar name he blurted out - he crawls over to you, “are you okay?” hand on your cheek as he checks for something.

they return to your eyes when you slap it away though.

you’re not even sure why you’re seeing red but you attribute it to the fact that- “how did i get in this?”

he takes one look and blinks, “i changed you because you fell asleep in the cab and i carried-”

“why?” arms crossed over your chest, you speak over him.

“i... i thought you might be uncomfortable sleeping in that dress,” you can almost hear the screws in his brain turning in search for answers.

“stop, okay? don’t act like you’re some award-winning husband - you’re not, you were broke and was about to lose your only source of income when i came to you and asked if you wanted to not have to work a day in your life,” he must’ve not known that his eyebrows twitch at the words, “it’s always been about the money - i get it, so you can stop now. we don’t have to play house when no one’s around because this isn’t an actual marriage and we don’t even love each other.”

you expected the stars in his eyes to dim out, expected him to avert his gaze somewhere to the most random thing like the ugly vase next to the door or the phone on the nightstand or the window where the sound of kids laughing and vendors across the street obnoxiously greeting his neighboring competition.

but instead, he looks straight at you, “what is it then?” he asks, “what are we if those good night kisses, cuddling into each other in the middle of the night when we woke up briefly before falling back to sleep, holding hands while walking and making love every night-”

“i don’t know where you got that because i never kissed you, i never asked you to wait for me to go to sleep together and i never touched you first - they were all you,” your head dips to the side just the slightest bit, “and we had sex every night. that’s it - it’s just sex.”

the last thing you see before you climb off the bed and lock yourself in the bathroom, dialing up your secretary’s number to book a plane ticket for yourself, is what you’ve initially expected to see.

stars that don’t shine as bright as the morning they twinkle and greet for the first time of the day. brows that knit together but not because he’s anxious or nervous about telling you something.

when you stepped out, he’s gone and you don’t leave any notes. not even a text after you packed up your belongings, hailed a cab and went straight to the airport in your darkest shades and brightest dress.

and so it goes, not a single rumor about your early arrival in seoul and your lack of spouse with you. mainly because jeongguk and you have put up quite a show for those watching eyes. a love story worth spectating and an ending keenly awaited. but you’ve made it clear, during your about-to-hit one month honeymoon that you’re truly, deeply, madly in love with your chosen husband, so much so, that you’re willing to leave the chairman seat unguarded.

it’s a gamble but it worked like magic. the board members welcome you back into the company without any inquiry even though you’re one week too early. mr. yoo even seems relieved to see you when you’re on your way to your office on your first day back.

“it’s nice to see you again, miss ____ -” he stops himself, “i mean, mrs. jeon.”

you shake your head, laughing, “miss ___ is fine for me, everyone’s known me as that for so long.”

when you reach the end of the hallway where you have to part to go to your office, and him to his, you tap him on the arm once with a hand that lacks a wedding ring but he doesn’t seem to care as he dips into a bow and bids you a good day.

and so it goes, you start burying yourself in your pending works while also juggling surprise visits from two of your aunts, to which each does not fail to not-so-discreetly give your left hand a once over. but you’re faster, having kept your ring in the drawer and pulling it out and slipping it on under the desk before standing up to greet the elder women both times without fail.

on the day jeongguk and you were supposed to return, you’ve debated on booking a hotel just because you don’t want to face him - soyeon briefed him about your sudden departure back to korea and that there was no reason for him to come back with you. and so he stayed. travelled to london and then to glasgow with a black card and unlimited possibilities - just liked you promised him on the day you signed the contract.

things might have gotten off track but coming back to the familiar scent of ocean from your candlewicks and the bonzai that belonged to your deceased grandfather in the corner of the room, you’ve found your purpose again - the reason you would go so far as to sacrifice your heart for this position.

you’re never going to lose sight of it ever again.

but when the door beeps once after you punched in the code, the smell of something delicious waft in the air after you stepped into your apartment and jeongguk greeting you with a pink apron with printed with hearts all over it, you feel yourself freezing in your spot.

“oh, you’re back?” his back is on you as he redirects his attention to the sizzling goodness in the hot pan, “i’m making fried noodles, it’ll be done it 10 minutes - why don’t you go and change first?”

it takes a moment of you staring at the black tresses of his head and the broad shoulders with a pink string hanging over the back of his neck before you actually take a step towards the stairs. once you’ve showered and dressed in your pajamas - you prefer those than the lingerie jeongguk has only ever seen you in - it takes another moment for you to stare at the golden strings layered with button mushrooms, beef slices and prawns and a fried egg over them.

“okay,” you shake your head, as if to shake away the trance that seems to come over you - jeongguk’s already looking at you with a curve on his lips, “what is this?”

“friend noodles,” he says simply.

“no,” another round of head-shaking passes, “i mean, what are you doing? i literally insulted you and called you a bum and a gold digger.”

he takes a minute to mull over the matter, bottom lip jutting out as if to say, “yeah, i kinda am.”

“you must also not realize that i only talk to you when we’re in public or when we’re having sex,” you point out, fork gripped tightly in your hand to which he gives a glance at before reaching to pull it out of your grasp and setting it on the napkin next to your plate.

“love making,” he reiterates but before you can even get a word out, he holds up a hand and tilts his head in a ‘wait’ kind of manner, “and a relationship is 50-50, you work and i cook and clean.”

your eyes narrow at him for the longest moment before you pick up the fork again, this time dipping it into the strands of gold and twirling it before directing it to yout mouth. an appreciative moan leaves you as the spice and sweetness spread over you like a whole new experience.

“good right?” jeongguk mimics your action, digging in and smiling proudly with the first bite.

it’s only when you’re done and loaded the dirty dishes into the washer, as you watch him take off the apron with his back on you whilst you lean against the edge of the counter, do you finally ask, “who’s chaeyoung?”

the way he freezes up with hands middair, in the middle of hanging the strap over the hook - isn’t the least bit surprising.

“wh-who?” the hesitant way he looks at you and then to his feet and then to the sink with a hand rubbing the back of his neck - is familiar. welcomed even but you don’t show.

“you tell me,” you shrug, “must’ve been someone important - someone who you’re used to having wake you up.” you let the silence hang in the air for several heartbeats, watching as his adam’s apple bob whilst his wide-eyed gaze shifts from the sink to the block of knives to the stool before they rest on you.

“maybe a girlfriend you left behind in exchange for money - the money i offered you,” and with that, you watch as his gaze shakes and his pink move but no words come out.

it’s only a long moment later, that he finally manages to find them, “i... i haven’t seen chaeyoung ever since we got married.”

“well, congratulations!” you bring your hands together in a crisp applause, lips curving into one of your schooled smiles, “soyeon contacted her and guess what she said? she said you told her you were going to the city to find a job and didn’t want her to wait on you which was why you broke up but poor little chaeyoung is still waiting for you on the country side - you can go see her and your parents.”

and with that, you turn your back on him for the first time since you left him to an empty suite and a cold bed.

“why are you so...” but just as thought you could walk out of this like a winner, jeon jeongguk somehow manages to pull you several steps back with just words and eyes that bears more emotions than you can handle, “mean?”

“you’re always smiling and laughing with your secretary like you’re best friends, you always look sad when you talk about your grandfather and you always kiss your parents on the cheek every time you meet them... why-” he stops short when he meets your gaze - you’re not sure what he sees that makes him look like he’s been punched in the face with a wild ball.

“i’ve always been mean,” you feel your eyebrows rising before you blink once, “you just had your head in the clouds, dreaming about how you can make a girl with a rotten attitude change and maybe fall in love with you along the way - well guess what? i’m not her,” and just like that night in athens, something in the way he stands, stiff like a rock and eyes darkened with a sort of desire, your eyes travel down to his pants where a painfully obvious erection protrudes against the fabric of his pants, “...and you like it.”

“no, i - this - it’s...” he fumbles on his words as he clasps his hands over his crotch, but the way his eyes seem to find solace at the sight of your cleavage screams desperation and agony.

“___... you don’t have- fuck,” the first moan falls out of his mouth when yours wrap around him.

“only because i can’t have a proper conversation when all you’re concerned about is how to take my blouse off from all the way across the room,” you say after a delicious ‘pop!’ when your cheeks hollow out just before you pull away.

it takes only a few more pumps before he’s begging you to “wait- please - i want you.”

it’s the ‘please’ that gets you.

“fine but don’t come inside,” you relent, hands fiddling with the zipper of your skirt before jeongguk’s polite ‘let me’ as he bends you over the counter, chilly air kissing your skin as a tear echo against the wall and you wonder if you’re free in the weekend to go shopping for-

“oh my god,” the moan slips out of your mouth in a pleasured surprise - you didn’t expect him to get your pantyhose, panties and skirt out of the way that fast.

thought with the barely noticeable discomfort of your panties digging into your hips, you figure he opted for keeping them pushed to the side instead of getting rid of them completely.

they do come off anyway, left in the trail of clothes strewn along the way to the stairs where jeongguk decides to have you bend over because “it’s a perfect place for a doggy,” and you concur as you moan and whine while he fucks you like he owns you. hand keeping your hair in a lock whilst he holds your upper body up whenever you’re about to lose yourself and bury your face in the steps.

but you do manage to get to the bedroom, just not the bed. you made a mess on the carpet - it’s going to stain an ugly shade of sex and lust but soyeon will probably not even bat an eye once you ask her to schedule an appointment with an interior designer. might as well give your room a make over.

so it goes, jeongguk likes to call your eye rolls and offers to lend him a driver to drive him to his hometown to meet the love of his life - cute. alternatively, jealousy. which you simply roll your eyes at, again.

at times, he comes over to your office - mainly to take you out for lunch but ends up fucking you over your mahogany table. and later in the car on the side of the road where an officer came knocking on the fully tinted window - you had at least 60 seconds to button up your shirts and pull down your skirt while jeongguk zips up his pants with a whine before you roll your window down.

how the rest goes, you rather not say.

but you’ve sworn against car sex - at least in daylight and in an open space.

so when you end up walking past a mirror in your room, just as you’ve donned an off white blouse and a grey pencil skirt, you find yourself freezing in shock. hands coming to cup your stomach, you squint at the woman who’s squiting back at your belly.

“honey, breakfast is ready,” jeongguk pokes his head into the room, the infamous pink apron tied around his front and a pair of light orang oven mitts on his hands.

“do you think I gained weight?” you quiz, knowing full well that he’ll spout a heartwarming but blatant lie about-

“no, i think you’re a healthy weight,” a man that looks like him comes to hug the woman in the mirror, kissing her head before glancing at his reflection once and turning back to it, squinting his eyes at the part where your hands are.

“uh,” he hesitantly starts, “how much chipotle did you have last night?”

“not enough that’s for sure,” you turn to him with an incredulous look, “i went to bed hungry,” a light smack lands on his chest - to which he doesn’t even bat an eye, “cause you keep stealing my food!”

“maybe we should book an appointment,” he suggests, voice smooth but the glint in his eyes and the suppressed smile on his face gives away his exitement.

“no, i can’t be pregnant,” you shake your head, walking over to the vanity to pick up your purse and keys, “it’s not the right time.”

“but what if you are?” you hear the hurt in jeongguk’s voice but your interest overrides your emotiones.

“i just can’t be,” and with that, you place a kiss on his lips, “i’m sorry, baby.”

and with that, you left for the kitchen when jeongguk still tried to reason with you. he tried again for the next few days until you set your food down and told him a baby is never going to be in the picture.

but two months down, you barely fit your clothes and jeongguk has been kissing you good morning before bending down and pressing his ear to your belly, “and good morning to you, my little blueberry.”

and he’s been kissing you good night before pecking your stomach and wishing the life form growing inside you a ‘come out fast so mommy and daddy can meet you, okay?’

“good news and bad news,” soyeon said exactly one month ago after you’d fainted in a middle of a meeting and woke up in a hospital room, “you can’t be pregnant but you are and you’re gonna need an heir soon anyway so...”

“it’s bigger than a blueberry now,” you point out - jeongguk’s been calling your child a blueberry ever since he rushed to the hospital after getting a call that his wife fainted and once he was there, got flashed with a sonogram the size of- “the doctor said it’s as big as a blueberry, not chipotle,” you’d been indifferent, mainly because a child wasn’t in your plan and you’d been taking birth control since way before you got married.

but jeongguk had been overjoyed. taking care of you everywhere you go, he didn’t even let you drive and instead searched up for drivers with a long list of the lowest rates of accidents in their records. he gets into the shower with you because he “can’t wait to have a family shower together” and packages of baby clothes have been pouring in with matching shirts and ‘mom’, ‘dad’ and ‘baby’ printed on each one and he shows them to you after you got back from work.

his love for your child had made you fall in love with being a mother. with having a family of your own - the two notions you never thought you could wrap your head around as you made your vows to each other two years ago.

and it’s somewhere down the line, as you watch jeongguk rock your baby in his arm as she sleeps soundly amidst the beeping of the heart monitor, jeongguk’s voice like a lullaby as he murmurs ‘you’re so beautiful, you have mommy nose, and my lips, thank you for being born,’ and when he twirls around, probably feeling the heat of someone’s stare from all the way on the bed, he looks at you with that lost, wide-eyed wonder before his lips curl into a smile, eyes disappearing into crescents.

-it’s then, do you realize that jeongguk has become the person you smile and laugh with, the person you greet with a kiss and the person your heart beats for.

he’s your husband, lover, soulmate.

note. i have another preview with the same title and characters but from a historical era which i haven’t managed to finish but if you see a marquis!jk and x heir!reader then yk hehe. also if you like arranged marriage au’s do check my masterlist! i have a lot of them apparently (i just realized while writing this fic lol)

i’ve been super stressed and feel like i haven’t actually been doing anything i really like in the weekend so i sat down and decided to finish this draft idea once and for all!

first off, oc is a douche bag who cares about herself a lot but it’s written in her pov which i hope portrays a justification (which isn’t necessarily okay) to the things she do. but in other people’s story, she’s that woman who stole a person’s man, or she’s that hard ass boss that nobody really likes but pays good, or that graunddaughter that seems to think about her grandfather’s money only. but no one is easily good or bad, it’s more than that just like oc. and i hope to send at least that message through this story. not one can be just ‘good’ or ‘bad’.

in my opinion, there’s no development in her character bc of the word count and the fact that i didn’t plan for it to be long enough to include a development. i just wanted to write about an asshole who has feelings and can be nice to certain people. she’s probably still an asshole but her feelings for jeongguk changed and so is her treatment towards him (as per foreshadowed) and he became one of the people she loves - and i say probably because we’ll probably never know for sure and it’s also not up to my interpretation alone. you, the readers, may think she has or may think she hasn’t - either way, this is just a story about someone who you might know, maybe someone who you’d dupe as selfish. either way, i hope yall enjoyed it!

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jungkook au #bts au #bts fluff #bts angst

2K notes · View notes

bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Merlin has been Court Sorcerer for a couple months now;

and whilst the gang knows that, in theory, he is "The Most Powerful Warlock to Ever Walk the Earth"... they never quite realised what that meant, until he got stabbed through the chest, and he laughed...

Good-Merlin, can still be a little very dark sometimes, especially when his friends are in danger.

TW: Some fairly graphic descriptions of violence under the cut, just lots and lots of blood, and Merlin being a little very terrifying.

ONCE AGAIN the gang (5 knights, A+M) are in the woods doing some shit.

A large group of mercenaries had been reportedly ransacking some outlying villages. Arthur had been crowned for less than a year, so in a show of solidarity and loyalty to his people, he took himself, his five best knights, and the newly appointed Court Sorcerer, instead of just assigning it as someone else's problem.

The first couple of days are uneventful. Everything's been so busy in recent months, with Leon taking charge of the knights whilst Arthur gets on with his kingly duties, the change in laws, and the complete change in Merlin’s life; it was nice for everyone to just catch up and goof around.

Of course they were focused on helping their people, but they might as well relax themselves on the way there. Everyone knows, a happy, de-stressed fighter, is a good fighter.

They come across the mercenaries quicker than expected. Apparently they had grown in confidence and ventured further into the kingdom.

That also means the gang wasn't expecting it, and even Merlin is taken by surprise.

There are also far more attackers than they were expecting, and six knights, even six of the best knights, was no where near enough to keep pace with the 30 or so group of attackers, and the fight was over before it really began.

Which is what lead to the current situation.

The gang had been dragged to a clearing, all clapped in cold iron shackles (with Camelot's new change in laws.... well, the mercenaries weren't taking any chances, any of them could be hiding sorcery).

A man who has clearly established himself as the leader starts shouting orders:

"Someone get a fire lit, a big one. Chain the knights to the trees, but that one-"

(He points directly at Merlin, the only one of the group not in armour)

He gives a horrid grin before continuing:

"- bring that one here, and unshackle him. Perhaps the King will pay up quicker should we pre-emptively send a.... message."

All the knights widen their eyes at this. Apparently these idiots hadn't realised that one of the men they had shackled to a tree was the King.

I guess if they were from outside of Camelot, they might not know what he looks like? But none of them question it, all hoping that once Merlin was free of his shackles, he could make a run for it and bring an army back.

Merlin just smirks slightly to himself, so small and brief, that only Leon notices it, and allows himself to be dragged towards the man in the centre of the clearing.

The Sorcerer stands casually, trying not to gag from the smell of the mans breath.

He rubs his wrists absentmindedly, and subtly takes in a deep breath as the shackles are removed, and he feels the magic flow back through his body.

Merlin lays a steely glare on the Head Merc as the knights watch on in fear, why wasn't he running? Fighting?? Anything??

He goes to say "That was a very bad move on your part." but just as he opens his mouth to speak, he feels a sharp pain in his chest.

He opens his mouth but all that comes out is a harsh gurgle, as blood starts dripping from between his lips.

He can vaguely hear the screaming of the knights as he takes a stumbled step back, before falling to his knees, only then looking down to see the hilt of the dagger, poking out from his chest.

He coughs up some more blood as he looks up at his attacker, unable to do anything but tremble, and pull a face of confusion, blinking rapidly in shock.

He can still hear the shrieking. Someone yelling his name. Someone screaming curse words, a lot of "NO!"s

The head honcho gives him one last smirk before walking over towards the knights, who are yanking so tightly at their chains, and screaming so loudly, they're almost certain to have fractured wrists and strained vocal cords.

Merlin kneels there, looking back down at the dagger, still coughing up blood and struggling to draw breath, his whole body trembling, as The Merc begins to address his chained friends.

"His carcass will be dropped at the gates of Camelot. Hopefully that will deliver the message to your powerful King."

He starts chuckling at the knights pleading, but before he can gloat more, Merlin starts wheezing. Loudly.

He turns around, about to yell at someone to finish him off and shut him up, when he realises in horror, that the wheezing, is slowly morphing into laughter.

The knights turn their stares back to their friend, confused and horrified, as Merlin looks up at The Merc from his place in the floor.

He slowly stands, swaying on his feet, grinning wildly, blood now pouring from his mouth, his teeth stained. A dribble comes out of his nose, his eyes manic, and his body still shaking.

"How... how is this possible?!-"

The Merc takes a step back, as all of his... employees... stare on, too shocked to act.

"- even if you were a sorcerer this is.... this is IMPOSSIBLE!"

He takes another step back, getting paler by the second, and a blood soaked Merlin grins at him,

He tilts his head, looking like a madman, and wheezes out a crazed:

“You think you get to kill me?”

The knights stare on in near-revulsion, as he lifts a hand wet with blood up, pulling the dagger from his chest, groaning briefly.

The red streak on Merlin’s chest begins to grow rapidly at this, and he bends over, almost falling, as he coughs up an impossible amount of blood, keeping the dagger gripped tightly in his hand.

As Merlin looks up, once again grinning, the leader regains a small part of his composure, and yells:

“KILL HIM! FOR GODS SAKE SOMEONE KILL HIM!!”

Before the swordsmen can take even one step towards Merlin, the grin drops from his face, his eyes glowing gold as he begins to snarl.

He begins taking disjointed steps towards the Head Merc, not even looking at the other men, trusting his Magic to do what he wants without much guidance.

He is vaguely aware of the screeching all around him, and begins to smirk again as the man he’s heading towards darts his gaze around the clearing in pure terror. The knights are also looking horrified, staring at the sharp vines bursting from the ground, and viciously ripping their attackers to shreds.

The Head Merc looks back towards Merlin, somehow managing to look even more petrified, as Merlin’s walking, and breathing, seem to become easier with each step.

The shrieks die down, and the clearing becomes silent, save for the harsh, frantic, panting of the only man left. The glow fades from Merlin’s eyes, his magic settling back into him. He spits out one last mouthful of blood, still walking, his chest fully healed, and the threats taken care of.

Still, he smirks.

The man falls backwards to the ground, rabidly scrambling away from Merlin, paler than ever:

“What.... what are you??? Please.. please!! I DIDN’T KNOW!!”

Still, Merlin walks towards him.

Still, he smirks.

The knights just about manage to tear their gazes away from the carnage in the clearing, staring at Merlin in fear.

Merlin’s eyes flash briefly gold once more, as he absentmindedly waves his hand, using his magic to pull the Merc to stand before him.

He’s trembling hard, but is too scared to make even a single noise.

Merlin tilts his head and, whilst still smirking, says:

“You attack my friends. You put me in cold iron. And you think you’re the one that gets to kill me?”

The knights shudder at the deadly tone of voice, one they’d never heard Merlin even get close to before.

Merlin’s hand rushes up and grips the man’s hair, yanking it back, as he drops his smirk and starts snarling again.

Quick as lightening, he thrusts the dagger that had previously perforated his own chest, up into the man’s heart, staring him into his eyes as the breath leaves his body:

“You don’t get to kill me.”

The Merc stops moving quickly, clearly falling to a more accurate blow than the one he’d given the sorcerer.

Merlin drops him, his eyes following his carcass in clear disgust.

The Sorcerer lets out a short, huffed, laugh, but before he can do anything else, he’s pulled from his thoughts, by Lancelot’s trembling voice:

“M... Merlin?”

Merlin’s head snaps up towards his friends, and his eyes widen just a fraction, before he casually waves his hand in their direction.

The chains that hold them to their trees crumble to the floor, and each of them slowly stands on shaking legs.

Merlin notices the fear and horror in their faces, levelling a short, assessing, stare at each of them before glancing back down to the body at his feet.

He looks back to Arthur before smiling. It’s his normal, sweet smile, as opposed to the smirk he held earlier, but it does little to comfort The King. If anything this smile is more terrifying after what they had just witnessed, and the fact that Merlin was still covered head to toe in his own blood didn’t help either.

Arthur continues to stare at him, trying not to look scared, but failing miserably. At that, Merlin shrugs slightly, before looking down at his hands, seemingly no longer even thinking about the knights (or...anything that had just happened).

He gives an irritated huff at all the blood, before moving his attention to his shirt:

“Bollocks. This is gonna be a bitch to wash. He could have at least slit my throat, instead of putting a giant hole in my shirt.” he mumbles it to himself, but the others draw in shaky breaths as they overhear him.

The knights glance at each other quickly, before slowly making their way to Merlin. None of them come within arms reach of him however.

(Though they are all now aware, after that terrifying display, that Merlin didn’t have to even be thinking about it, to hurt them).

It’s Leon that gulps, and speaks first:

“Merlin? Are you... feeling alright?”

Merlin looks up in confusion about that, but the speed of it makes the knights all flinch.

He looks around at them as he replies:

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be? I already told you guys, I’m immortal.”

He looks down at himself, looking frustrated again, before perking up with sudden happiness:

“OH! I can just-”

He once again waves his hand, eyes flashing gold, as the blood disappears from his clothes and skin, and the hole in his shirt repairs itself.

The knights look amongst each other again, before Leon pipes up once more:

“Merlin you just... you laughed. You wiped them out. Do you... does your head feel alright?”

Merlin frowns at that, before turning around and looking at the carnage for the first time.

His voice is quiet when he speaks again:

“Oh. Yeah. My magic is pretty protective of you guys. I told it I wanted them all dead for hurting you, and I guess... that’s what it did-”

He looks back at them once more, his expression holding slight, worrying, amusement:

“As for the laughter, I just think it’s kind of funny that people keep underestimating me. And they keep dying for that mistake.”

He glances at the bloody scene again, only quickly, but when he looks back this time, he’s biting his lip and looking worried. Looking much more like the scared Merlin they used to get, all those years ago. He fiddles with his hands roughly, and seems to shrink in on himself as he looks at Arthur:

“Was that... was that wrong? You didn’t want any of them alive did you? I’m pretty tired now, but I could probably summon one of their spirits if you wanted to ask some questions or something?”

Arthur is taken aback at that, but he calls upon his bravery, and is the first of the knights to move closer to Merlin, only hesitating for a second, before pulling him into a brief hug:

“No, no it’s fine Merlin, you did great. I... we just haven’t seen you show off the extent of your powers yet and it was a little... unnerving.-”

The King pulls back, but keeps one hand on Merlin’s shoulder, glancing at the others, finally shuffling closer, before continuing:

“-I have a feeling we won’t be seeing any more of these guys, if there are others. Though one or two survivors would be great, next time.”

Merlin nods thoughtfully at that, as he receives a shaky smile, and clap on the back from Gwaine.

As Arthur lets go, and starts to pick his way through the bodies, looking truly unnerved, Gwaine following him, the rest of the knights briefly smile as they pat Merlin on the back one by one.

All of them get to work piling the bodies in one big heap, to burn them, and All of them are thinking the same thing:

“Thank fuck Merlin is on our side.”

THE END ✌

Soz lads, I know this is lot more gory than what I normally go for, but I just LOVE the concept of Merlin letting his dark side getting the better of him when the people he cares about are in danger.

Plus the idea of the gang finally seeing, finally understanding, why Emrys is worshipped by like 95% of magic users they come across....finally understanding that Merlin... their sweet, innocent, must-be-protected-at-all-costs Merlin,,,,, is basically a God. Noice

601 notes · View notes

sluttbuttsstuff · 3 years

Text

Silver Chariot Agency: An Introduction

This is the first chapter/prologue to my jjba sugar daddy au. To clarify, it’s modern day, with reader x various Jojo characters, all of which are of age, and “sugar daddies”. I’m hoping to have several options/outcomes for various characters, kind of like a chose you own adventure story, or a dating visual novel. As a note, this story may contain some dark themes and content, including drug use, yandere, sex scenes, and other things I haven’t currently planned out.

TLDR: this is the story about Y/N, who starts working at Polnareff’s sugar daddy agency and meets lots of hot jojo guys

ENJOY!!!

“Mr. Polnareff is ready to see you now!” The cheerful secretary (Suzy, you think) calls out, breaking you from your stupor and ushering you behind large, intimidating doors. You grew up with dreams bigger than this, having a good career, doing something important with your life, but life had other plans. You’ve been unemployed for nearly a year, and despite all the classes you’ve taken, interviews you’ve aced, and concessions to pay and pride just to be considered, you still had no job, and your unemployment had finally run out. Long story short, you were desperate. That’s when you first heard about the Agency.

You had noticed an email from the Silver Chariot Agency buried between job applications and rejection letters, and confusing it for a job offer, had opened it to read. According to the email, you had been “scouted” as someone with the qualifications to apply for what appeared to be a Sugar Daddy, or Escort, service. The email was polite, open and honest, but you couldn’t help but be a bit skeptical, if not mildly offended. There’s nothing wrong with sex work, mind you, but it wasn’t something you had any interest in if you could avoid it. You weren’t interested in selling yourself, and even if you weren’t wealthy, you weren’t ready to auction off your time to creepy old perverts just yet. Not to mention, how safe were these agencies? Still, the email had an open doors policy for any questions, as well as a phone number and email to direct all your questions. You were going to delete the email, but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to. You saved it in your folder, and forgot about it for a few months.

Cut to today: you couldn’t cover your rent, your auto bill, and your credit cards were maxed out. After sending an email, and talking on the phone to a cheerful woman, she convinced you to visit their offices and talk to their C.E.O, who was visiting your nearest location on business. Surprised by their openness, and relieved not to have a door slammed in your face for once, you made an appointment and were now following Suzy through an impressive office space. Silver Chariot had its own expensive looking building, with high ceilings, metal tones and spotlessly clean wall to wall windows and mirrors. The place reeked of elegance, intimidatingly so, and you regretted your outfit choice for this interview.

Suzy finally escorted you into a conference room, with an expansive metal table and tufted leather chairs that probably cost more than your car. Then, at the end of the conference table, you saw a silver haired gentleman, who Suzy introduced as, “Mr. Polnareff, this is y/n, call me if you need anything!” and with that, she left and closed the door. You noticed Mr.Polnareff didn’t stand up to greet you and shake your hand-not out of rudeness, but because he was in a wheelchair. On top of that, he had an unusual looking eye patch, and despite clearly being too young to be considered elderly, had prematurely grey hair slicked back in an unusual pompadour.

He shook your hand firmly, and smiled at you as he greeted you, “It’s so lovely to meet you, y/n, I've been looking forward to seeing you in person. Tell me, what brings you here today?” He asked, sitting forward and listening intently. You fiddled with your hands, trying to politely, but vaguely, explain your situation, without sounding too much like a sob story. Polnareff listened without interrupting, merely nodding, as you explained what you’ve been through.

“That sounds like a difficult situation- it is difficult in this day and age for young people to support themselves, even more so when they have no one to help them when needed. I, myself, had to support not only myself, but my younger sister, Cherie, when I was your age. It was difficult, to say the least, and I didn’t always handle it gracefully to be honest with you. When my sister saw how much we were struggling, she decided to try helping herself and me by turning to sex work.”

You were shocked by his openness, telling so much of his personal story to a total stranger interviewing at his agency. He continued,

“Back in my day, the streets of France were not a safe place to sex workers, least of all vulnerable women unable to defend themselves. It was one of those nights, while my sister was working, that she was tragically attacked and killed. She had no way of protecting herself, as I wasn’t with her, and the police were just as dangerous. She died alone because no one was willing to help save her, myself included. He paused, rubbing his temples as he remembered.

You tried to stop him, “Um, you don’t have to-” you began, but he held up a hand and assured you,

“I am fine, it is a painful, but old wound, and important you hear. It was the most devastating event of my life, but it shaped me into the man I am today. You see, because of what happened to my sister, I was determined to provide a safe place to any and all women and sex workers, no questions asked, to protect them from things that could happen to them. Sex work is not something to be criminalized or judged; it is the oldest profession and a valuable work. So, The Silver Chariot Agency provides a safe way to support those in the industry. That being said, working as an escort, or as it's sometimes called, ‘sugar baby’-”

he punctuates the term with bunny ear fingers, “-Can be dangerous work. There is always a risk of assault, and rape, however hard we may try to combat it, but our agency has extremely strict policies and protection plans to protect our workers in either case. I promise , should you decide to work here, that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Polnareff grabs your hand, looking into your eyes, intensely.

You know you’ve just met him, but you’re inclined to believe Polnareff. He’s either an excellent liar, or simply cares deeply about his company and employees.

“There are, of course, other things to consider before you decide to take this job. It is a job, and many of our clients aren’t looking for romance, but some are hoping to find love and a potential romantic partner via our agency. Some are looking for purely sexual relationships, and some want nothing to do with sex. Some of our clients are involved with...less than legal hobbies and activities, and we strongly caution you not to get involved, as our legal department and contracts can only protect you so far. If you decide to engage, do so with caution.

“ Lastly, you ultimately get to decide who you want to pick as your clients, so choose wisely. I have Suzy-” He gestures to the woman, presumably waiting down the hall to escort you when ready, “Write up summaries and information on every applicant who have expressed an interest in our agency. Make sure to carefully review them, and choose the client you think will have the best relationship.” He finishes, giving you a lot to think of. He can see the gears turn in your mind, and gives you time. “Please, don’t feel like you have to respond today. Or, if you try this out and don’t like it, you can leave the agency or specific clients, with no fear of repercussions.” He Pulls away from the table, and turns towards the door, before pausing.

He seems to change his mind, shaking his head as Suzy gets the door for him.

“I look forward to seeing you again, regardless of your decision, mon amie. I’ll let Suzy handle the rest for today, thank you. If you decide to accept, just call Suzy and ask her to see some client applications to pick out who you’d like to work with. Au revoir.” And with that, Mr. Polnareff disappears with surprising speed. Any other questions and details are handled by Suzy, who cheerfully tells you about the position, average salaries, tax information, and your typical FAQ. You listen mutely, occasionally nodding along, but you’re still thinking about everything Polnareff told you. You could not only support yourself with this job, but make a killing, while still being safe and having a say in the relationships. This could work. This could work…

Less than 24 hours later, Suzy gets another phone call at the office. “Silver Chariot Agency, this is Suzy, how may I assist you today?” She asks cheerily. A familiar voice whispers on the other end, “Do you think I could see some of those client Applications, please?”

#jjba #fic #sluttbuttsstuff #sugar daddy!au #reader insert

56 notes · View notes

remember-to-be-gentle · 3 years

Text

Subject: BNHA, Dabi aka Touya Todoroki

Title: House Party Bully 4 (NSFW, fem reader)

Trigger Warning: Non con, pregnancy, (accidentally) induced labor, drinking, smoking (weed), obsession, possessive behavior, forced marriage, dick piercings, family trauma, voyeurism, drunk kisses, jealousy

“Avoid,” Touya said slowly, finally, “the others when you can.” It was obvious advice, especially after what his siblings had done to you, but you just nodded and laid on his bed. He glanced at you and sat down beside you. For a moment, you thought he’d rub your back or pet your hair, but he pushed you onto your side, forcing you to face away from him. “Laying on your side is better for the baby.”

Right. Even if Touya was, arguably, better than the rest of his family, he was just like them: only after the fetus growing inside you and the things that came with it. Milk, whatever prestige fucked up rich families like these got with grandkids, and ownership over you.

“I’ll get a job,” Touya added suddenly, “a good one, then we can move out.”

We. The word felt like an umbilical cord around your throat, connecting you to him and the baby you didn’t want. You were choking. But you needed him. Just as much as he wanted you to need him. “Don’t worry about moving out,” you mumbled into his sheets, “I’m sure your father wouldn’t let us.”

Touya twitched beside you. He seemed to be thinking because he was quiet for a long moment. The mattress caved closer to you. “Hey,” he said, voice soft, “you didn’t like my dad better, right?”

Something cold washed down your body. Every muscle from your head to your toes froze and curled in on themselves. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You felt him roll over, his back nearly pressed against yours, heat soaking through your shirt with unwanted comfort. He was silent for a moment, like he’d rather drop the subject, but then pushed on to say, “You didn’t like him better when he fucked you, did you?”

With as much ice as you could muster you replied, “I didn’t like it when either of you assaulted me.”

That seemed to rile Touya up because the bed shook with the weight of him leaping off it. He grabbed your arm, forced you onto your back, his grip bruising. “I didn’t assault you!”

“Then what would you prefer to call it Touya?” You glared at him, the ice in your body replaced with insufferable heat. “Rape? Teaching a rat a lesson?”

He backed off at that. “No, it was...” He bit his lip. “Forget it.”

He made for the door and your rage washed away with panic. “Where are you going?” You may have hated him, but you needed him to keep the hungry mouths of his siblings off you.

Touya stopped in the doorway and sighed. “I’m going out. The others won’t bother you if you stay in here.” He started to close the door behind him and stopped, one cerulean eye locking onto you. “If you need anything, you can call me.”

You wanted to say something back, something biting and cruel, but the ugly truth was that he’d saved you and you needed him. Your throat was tight when you said, “Okay.”

The door shut.

You laid back on your side. How did Touya bullying you turn into this? You were both just college students and suddenly you’d been roped into his fucked up family and forced to have his fucked up baby. There was a little him inside you. The thought made you sick to your stomach, but you laid there and held onto the sheets that smelled like your captor. The safest Todoroki. What an ironic thought. It was like calling him the least poisonous snake: regardless of which one sunk their teeth into you, you weren't coming out unscathed.

At some point you must have fallen asleep because you were startled awake by your phone ringing. You were too groggy to check the ID and answered. “Hello?” Your voice was weak from disuse.

“Did I wake you?” Ice ate your bones when you heard the voice. Deep baritone and stone cold. Enji Todoroki continued, “Sorry. I managed to pull some strings with a friend of mine to keep this quiet. Long story short,” he paused, “welcome to the family Mrs. Todoroki.”

Every word, every reaction, every thought vanished into a vacuum, a vacuum named shock. He’d done it. Any hope of escape after the baby was born vanished just like that. You were branded with his name just as your body would never be the same after it delivered his baby. You couldn’t even muster up the strength to hang up the phone.

“Rei and I,” Enji continued as if he hadn’t just destroyed your future, “are on our way home now. I’ve got another doctor’s appointment scheduled tomorrow.”

You didn’t reply.

“We’ll able to find out the gender of the baby,” he said, “Rei’s eager to know but Touya might prefer the surprise. Do you have a preference?”

The blank space that held your feelings erupted. Your preference? Now he cared about your fucking preference? Fuck no. Fuck that. You screamed and hung up, throwing your phone across the room into a pile of dirty laundry. You wanted to punch Enji in his stupid face. You wanted to kick Touya in his breeding balls. You wanted to... You screamed again and this time tears streamed down your face. Defiance leaked out of you with every sob. You were trapped.

*******************************************************************************************

For the next four and a half months it felt like Enji was keep you away from Touya. He dragged you from appointment to appointment, insisting you stay in your room. Thankfully the other three hadn't so much as knocked on your door, but that didn't ease your anxiety in the slightest.

As your belly grew rounder it became harder to attend classes without people gossiping, especially with Enji by your side. When you couldn't fit into your desk one day it hit you that you'd have to balance Touya, school, and a needy baby. Suddenly you weren't so sure you wanted to attend classes in person.

It didn't help when you could feel it, yes it because Enji had decided to withhold the baby's gender, kicking inside you. It hurt. It was like being bullied by Touya all over again. The thought made you want to cry, but you were in class and simply bit your lip. The baby kept kicking.

After you got home from school, there was a note on the kitchen counter. "Out of town for Shouto's jujutsu match. Back Monday - Enji." The house was empty. You had the Todoroki manor to yourself. Was this your chance to run, while they were all gone?

But the front door opened. Touya stumbled in with his friends behind him. He looked at you, snarled, and walked away.

Toga smiled at you. "We're having a party tonight, feel free to come and bring your friend, too!" She pointed at your swollen belly and giggled following Touya.

Shigaraki and Spinner barely nodded at you. Twice gave you a thumbs up.

So this was how Touya got away with his parties.

But still the party could be your escape. A million cars on the lawn and—

You doubled over grabbing the counter to hold yourself steady. Throbbing pain burst around belly button as the tiny Todoroki inside you reminded you of it's presence. The baby could come any day. And then where would you go? Even if you ran you'd be alone, almost due, without any of your things: including the funds needed to simply give birth. No wonder Enji was comfortable taking off: you didn't have another option to leave without endangering yourself or the baby. Fuck.

Grabbing a snack you went back to your room and went to sleep.

*******************************************************************************************

Pounding base ripped you from your dreams. Each vibration traveling down your body and making every cell electrify. A familiar headache formed behind your eyes. This was just like the party nine months ago, disorienting and loud and fuck... The base was making you sick. This needed to stop. Touya. You needed to find Touya.

Quickly you pulled out your phone and called the number that felt like signing away your soul to the devil. It rang and rang and rang. Nothing. Shit. At least you knew where Touya would be. He could stop this.

You made for the door, wobbling and waddling with that cursed ten pound weight on your stomach. Nausea made it hard to focus on where you were. You wanted to vomit. You used the walls to help keep yourself upright as you descended into the bass, cringing when it started pumping louder.

Just gotta get to the study, you thought, that's where Touya always was with his friends.

Even thought you'd lived here for what felt like the better part of your pregnancy, you hadn't had the freedom to walk around alone. It was so big and twisted and confusing, especially since you could barely move. But you could also remember when Touya dragged you to his room, the smell of liquor on his breath and weed in his clothes.

He'd been terrifying then. An unknowable monster that plagued your school life. Now, he was still a monster, but one you were beginning to understand—no matter how much you didn't want to.

You understood that Touya was a result of his toxic family. You understood that Touya would likely never have normal romantic relationships. You understood that you were now parts of both these things. You understood that none of this was your fault and you didn't deserve any of it. And nothing would change in understanding your situation.

You pressed on, breathing hard, and stopped. God you wanted to sit and sleep, but the bass was an ache in your bones that kept biting you awake. You didn't have the energy for this. You checked where you were and nearly sobbed. Big chocolate doors with ornate handles. The study.

You burst through the doors. The smell of weed hit you before anything, making you double over coughing. Enji’s study was exactly how you remembered it, though the potent smell of weed this time was far worse. It was like your body couldn’t handle even the thought of it, your stomach churning, bile lapping at your esophagus. Voices fluttered through the room overlapping and swelling until you could pull out Touya's, talking excitedly. He cut himself and then started again, "There she is." His words were slurred, messy. He’d been drinking.

He whipped around, nearly falling over his legs to get to you. A hiccup raked up his body and he burst into giggles. “She’s here,” he said again, “she came all the way down here to see me. Are you enjoying the party, babe?” Touya wrapped you in a foul smelling hug, burying his face in your hair.

Despite how uncomfortable you were, you couldn’t help noticing how he seemed to be avoiding your bloated stomach. “Turn off the music,” you said, “its giving me a headache.”

“But the party,” Touya whined in your ear.

“You and your friends can smoke and drink, I don’t care, but the music has to stop. Its driving me crazy.”

Whatever happy attitude Touya wore vanished. He dropped his arms from around you leaving you cold. “Its driving you crazy?” He backed you up against the wall, his face inches from yours, a snarl across his mouth. “Do you have any idea how I’ve felt? I’m the one who knocked you up and I barely even see you. We live in the same fucking house! You belong to me and yet you let Fuyu and Natsu suck on your tits like it was their baby inside you.” His blue eyes were fire, boring into you. “The baby isn’t dad’s or my siblings. Its mine,” his fire died out in a moment, head hanging low, the tips of his hair tickling your nose, “even if I didn’t want it.”

Your mouth fell open. This was his scheme, his plan, to knock you up, keep you at his side and he didn’t even want it? “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Tears exploded out of your eyes, your nose swelling. “You took my freedom, my life, and you didn’t even want it?” Your voice broke into a shriek, “You bullied me every fucking day because you have a fucking crush on me and—and—.” You burst into sobs, whatever thoughts you had died on your tongue.

Touya stared at you, his eyebrows narrowed. You thought he was going to yell at you, tell you it was your fault for making him like you in the first place. “You know,” his voice was rough, deep, “I always liked it when you yelled at me.” And then his mouth was on yours, teeth against teeth and tongue sloppily trying to enter your mouth.

You tried to push him off, anger flaring in your chest like a wildfire, but Touya was bigger and stronger. Even drunk and high he was powerful. Another reminder of the night he’d assaulted you. Another reminder that the Todorokis could lord over you however they pleased.

One of his friends started laughing. “I’ve never seen Touya get this worked up,” it sounded like Spinner, “wonder how far he’ll go.”

Touya pulled back, spit connecting your mouths. His chest heaved and so did yours as you both took in oxygen. He turned around, smiled. “You just want to see my dick.”

The others laughed in that way stoners did when they weren’t sure what was happening but they were still enjoying themselves. “C’mon,” Shigaraki laughed, “whip it out, Toga said you got a new piercing.”

“Gotta get hard first,” Touya laughed. He dragged you to the automan and pushed you onto your back, your head just a foot from where the others sat smoking. The smile on his face vanished when your shirt rode up over your swollen stomach, your belly button flat against the stretched out skin. Slowly he put his hand on your stomach, feeling how taut it was and froze when the baby kicked.

He met your eyes. “I—.”

“C’mon Touya,” Toga groaned, her mouth stretched into a hungry smile, “show us how you knocked her up.” They all laughed at that. Of all of them, you would have thought that Toga would be on your side, at least telling them off, but she seemed just as into your torture as the rest of them.

Touya snapped out of whatever thought he was in, smiling that doped out smile again. He wrapped your legs around his waist and bucked into your clothed cunt.

A high pitched shriek left your mouth. It was just humping and yet your body was reacting to it like Touya had just pinched your clit. The fiery rage inside you turned into a different type of heat. “Please,” you grabbed Touya’s shirt, “don’t do this.”

He kissed your cheek. “I’m just giving my friends a show,” he smiled cruelly, “rat.” He bucked again and this time you bit your tongue to keep from crying out. "Ah-ah," Touya whined, "you're not allowed to hold back. We're putting on a show." He dug his tongue into your mouth again, careful to make sure you had nothing to hold back your cries except for him.

He roughly bucked against you again, his flat stomach rubbing over your swollen one. His friends cooed and cawed as he humped you through your clothes, his cock growing stiff and swollen in his pants. Touya grunted into your mouth and then pulled off gasping. "Fuck, I want to be inside." He stepped away, clawing at his pants to free himself.

You tried to get up, run away, but his friends pinned you down, held you for him.

Touya didn’t seem to notice the assist, too distracted trying to unhook one of the piercings from his zipper. When he finally managed to free himself, you saw the prince albert piercing you’d felt the first time and new ones along the bottom. Near the base of his cock was the beginnings of a jacob’s ladder.

He crossed back over to you and yanked off your pants with your panties following close behind. He stared at your exposed entrance, a soft drunk giggle escaping his lips. “I don’t think I got a good enough look at this last time.” He kissed your clit and just as quickly bit into it making you shriek. “God,” he groaned, “you’re pretty.” He aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in.

A hiss left his mouth, his hands gripping the automan tightly. “Fuuuuuuuck, you weren’t this tight last time.”

“Last time,” your voice nearly broke, “I wasn’t heavily pregnant.”

He smirked at you, “That must be the secret to good sex then.” Touya didn't wait for you to adjust, sliding all the way out and back in, his piercings dragging roughly against your walls. A low groan rippled out of his throat. He hunkered down above you, practically tucking himself into you with his head buried in your neck and stomach against yours. He kept up that rough pace as his friends smoked and laughed.

You winched when the baby started kicking again.

Touya froze. He’d felt it, too. He lifted himself up, keeping his cock firmly inside you, and ran his hands over your belly. You couldn’t decipher the look on his face. “Hey, calm down,” he said, “Daddy’s right here, there’s no need to freak out. Don’t be so selfish with Mommy’s cunt.”

He started up his rhythm again, rougher and deeper. You shrieked when he hit your cervix and then did it again, taking your cries as encouragement. “Stop it,” you begged, pulling at his shirt, “don’t do that you’re gonna—.”

“Gonna make you cum,” Touya chuckled as if he’d finished your sentence for you. He lifted your legs over his shoulders, practically shoving your already impregnated form into a mating press. Each thrust had your heavy belly bouncing, your swollen tits leaking, your throat raw from crying. It should have been uncomfortable and terrible but the ugly truth was Touya knew how to fuck you well, from the first time he’d assaulted you to now, he felt good.

He was better than his father.

Touya growled as he started pumping faster, ramming your cervix harder and harder until—

You screamed. This wasn’t you cumming, this was something different, something old and terrible that had your entire body shaking and flexing at once. Hot fluid poured out of you and onto the automan, splashing the front of Touya’s jeans and shirt.

He froze, that careless smile wiped away in less than a second. “What was that?”

“Holy shit,” Shigaraki muttered, “I think you broke her water.” And then he burst into laughter. Everyone was laughing, everyone except you and Touya.

“No,” he whined, “nonononononono. Please don’t, no.” He pulled out of you and tried to cover your entrance but it wasn’t done leaking. “I’m not ready for a baby. I’m not ready to be a father. I don’t want... I didn’t...” He locked eyes with you, fear coloring the blue color of his eyes. Of every expression you’d seen him wear, fear was not one of them: until now. He looked at you like you could do something about it, like you could just hold it in and wait until tomorrow, but the baby was coming and it hurt.

You screamed again and the stoners stopped laughing.

“Bro,” Toga said, “I think she’s actually, like, y’know.”

Touya collapsed on his hands and knees, tears flowing down his face. His chest caved and expanded as he panted. “No,” he kept crying. He crawled across the floor to his phone, quickly opening it and dialing a number. You could barely hear the exchange over your pain, a deep and terrible tearing, but you did hear Touya say, “I didn’t mean to. Dad, please, help me.”

You don’t know how long you laid there curled on your side, sobbing in pain, but the study doors burst open, Enji reeking of cold night air in just a button down and slacks. He looked between you and Touya, sighed, and scooped you off the automan. “We’re going to the hospital, you’re gonna be fine.”

You did not feel like you’d be fine.

Touya had sloppily redressed himself, still crying. He followed Enji out into the car. He climbed into the passenger seat while Enji buckled you up in the back. You grit your teeth to keep from screaming again.

Enji shook the car as he climbed into the driver’s seat and peeled away from the Todoroki mansion. “I warned you,” he growled at his son, “that you needed to be delicate with her and what did you do? You tried to fuck her to impress your friends.”

“I’m sorry,” Touya sobbed.

“You could have given her, or your baby an infection or worse,” he growled, “don’t do it again next time.”

You tried not to think about that last comment.

The hospital was quick and efficient, taking you into the delivery room. Your mind was blank as they talked about contractions and potential complications. And then you were holding someone’s hand and screaming like you’d never screamed before, in more pain than you’d ever experienced in your life, for more hours than you thought possible in a day.

When it was done, a nurse dumped your newborn on your chest, a tiny little lump of flesh so red he matched his hair. His father’s hair. His grandfather’s hair. A baby boy. A nurse said something about a name but all you could do was lay there and watch as the baby opened his cerulean eyes and began to wail.

480 notes · View notes

salemorbit · 3 years

Note

Hi, sorry if I'm overwhelming you with Requests, but I had an idea for an Imagine that I'd really love to see you write!! Could you please write some Headcanons for how Link, Zelda, Sidon and Revali (Age of Calamity timeline for Sidon btw) would react to a young woman who has a very strong connection to the Spirits being sent to teach Zelda how to unlock her power? Like it's a young woman, around 18 years old, who has a natural ability to communicate with all manner of Spirits, maybe even is part Spirit in some way, so she gets appointed by the King of Hyrule to teach Zelda how to do the same? And maybe she's super nice and excited too? Thanks so much, I really appreciate it!!

oh darling you're totally fine i really appreciate it :D

i hope i did this justice! it's a really neat concept

i also made it an x reader with those attributes if that's okay :)

~~~~~~

Hylia's Guide

[BOTW x fem!Reader]

Headcanons (Link, Zelda, Revali, Sidon)

warnings: none

takes place during Age of Calamity!

also for headcanon's sake,,,,,being a descendant of hylia in this case doesnt mean that you're of the same family? if that makes sense? okay so like reader is descended from hylia and technically so is zelda but they aren't blood related in any way HAHA hope that makes sense

~~~~~~~

Let's set the scene, yeah?

You were one of the descendants of Hylia from centuries past, now a ghost in the afterlife as part of the universe itself.

Naturally, you would be surprised when you became sentient once more and blinked open your eyes in the middle of Hyrule Field. In your head rang a soothing voice that you both heard in your head and felt in your bones. In an instant, you knew it was Hylia communicating with your physical form again after years of dormant sleep.

The voice instructed that you were to aid Zelda in her studies of connecting to her powers. Hylia could not intervene directly with Zelda, of course, but the most the Goddess could do was send someone in her place. And that was you: a descendant of Hylia's own bloodline resurrected from the dead come to help the princess in her efforts. Easy enough, right?

Convincing the King and his guards of the situation was difficult, let alone trying to get him to allow you to assist his precious daughter with her practice. The only proof that you had of any story that you told were the markings on your hands and chest.

Three distinct triangles etched themselves on your body: one on the back of each hand and the third on your chest. Your powers had long since been passed on to the next descendant of Hylia, but you were still full of the knowledge of how to use Hylia's gift and how to communicate with the spirits.

•••

Link

Link was wary of you at first, being the princess's appointed knight and all, but he soon figured that you weren't as much of a threat as he initially thought

You were kind and excited to meet someone else who also held Hylia's gift (albeit not necessarily awakened, but still) and Link knew that Zelda would be safe in your hands

While going on spiritual treks with Zelda and Link, you almost always made the meals because both Zelda and Link can't really cook lmao

Coming from an entirely different era, you had a big book of recipes in your head that you brought into reality with every meal you made, and Link definitely wasn't complaining

He appreciated your wide breadth of knowledge of different foods, plants, and wildlife that you might encounter on your travels

It made planning protective measures for the princess all the easier

Sometimes the ventures to connect to Hylia didn't bear any fruit (and that's okay because the gift takes plenty of patience!) and the mood could become solemn quickly

But you were always determined to lift the mood and lighten everyone's attitude, and it always worked!

You would excitedly ramble off stories about where you grew up or what you liked to do on your own travels back in the day, and it would always make Link feel warm that you had such fond memories you were willing to share with him

When Zelda needed time to herself to try to connect to the spirits and Hylia, you and Link would hang around each other and bond

Link would listen attentively as you talked about the cultural and time differences between your world and this one, sharing sympathy when you expressed nostalgia over your time lost

But you would quickly turn it around to the positives, which is what Link thought was a wonderful quality that you had

If you ever got caught off guard while on ventures by the Yiga Clan or rogue animals, Link would fight just as hard as he would in larger battles to keep you safe

Over the time you spent together, Link grew very fond of you and always was at your side if he wasn't immediately attending to the princess

Once your guidance and knowledge finally broke through to Zelda and her power awakened, Link was so proud of you for fulfilling your duty

He was worried that you would disappear from his life once you completed Hylia's task, but you connected to the spirits after the fact and bargained with them

At the end of it all, you were able to live your life through again with Link by your side :)

•••

Zelda

Goddess was Zelda relieved when she found out that she would be having a guide to help her unlock her powers

Upon meeting you, she was absolutely floored with your kindness and willingness to help her with her problems

You were a wonderful mentor to Zelda, teaching her things about the different spirits and how to harness the power that she never would have dreamed of researching on her own

And wow there was a lot of information HAHA

Zelda was also transfixed with the fact that you came from another lifetime, and you were more than happy to tell her all about your life before this one

She would also take very detailed notes about everything you said, enamored with the way you spoke and how excited you got about things you loved

Quiet study time in Zelda's room would often turn into challenges of you trying to make her laugh with small tidbits of stupid stunts you would pull

Of course Zelda couldn't hold back a smile when you were around, so the challenges would fall short but with you falling into fits of laughter

You always brightened Zelda's mood whenever she was down about a failed connection attempt, urging her to try more and be patient with herself

Zelda was thankful to Hylia for sending you because honestly she wouldn't know what to do without someone that was as kind and generous as you were with spreading knowledge about your gifts

And when they finally awakened, Zelda couldn't be more happy!

Hyrule was now safe with Zelda's power awakened and Ganon on the edge of being sealed away

She pleaded that you find a way to stay in her time and teach her more about the spirits and Hylia herself

Your heart warmed at the thought that someone wanted you to stay, and it warmed even more at the fact that someone loved you enough to want to keep you forever :)

•••

Sidon

Sidon met you when he was summoned with the other Champion successors

You were the first to greet him and explain what had happened with the time jumping and all that, and you helped to put his nerves at ease

His own excitable and boisterous personality bounced off of your own energy and buzz!

Fighting side by side with you, Sidon admired how you always had a strategy and were looking out for Zelda as if she was your own sister

He was surprised upon learning your story: never had he known that Hylia had the power like that to bring someone back to help those in the present

Sidon tried his best to stay by your side whenever he could, wanting to keep your blind spots covered just in case

In your time, you had known the Zora and actually knew King Dorephan when he was a young little guppy, and your stories of Dorephan never failed to make Sidon laugh

Sidon in turn shared his own tales of the evolved Zora Domain, and you found his storytelling absolutely captivating

Sidon felt a pull to you like he had to no one else before, and he nurtured that pull with his own heart

He made sure you had enough supplies, checked in on you immediately when you came back from a far off mission

Just an all around softie I think! Sidon has always been caring like that :)

When it was time for him to go back, you discovered a way that you could jump with him back to his own time

After all, your mission with Zelda from Hylia was over. Why shouldn't you be able to live your life through again?

You jumped back with Sidon to a world vastly different than the one you had just been in, and even more different than the one you were born into

But with Sidon, it always felt like home!

•••

Revali

Revali didn't want to be impressed, but he was Definitely Impressed

Your composure about the whole situation was amazing, and you handled all the questions everyone had with grace

And your kindness was overwhelming (in a good way) with the fact that you opened your mind to such possibilities of even being resurrected like that

Revali admired you through and through

He would be incessantly curious about what the afterlife was like, how the spirits communicated with you, what Hylia was like

You, of course, couldn't accurately answer most questions because, well, you couldn't remember, but you appreciated his desire to learn

You loved the way that he fought: with purpose and intent. There was little to no hesitation with Revali, he always had a plan

When you would go to treks with Zelda and Link to try to summon Zelda's power, Revali would make comments here and there insisting that he tag along just in case

Poor Rito really just wanted to spend more time with you, that's all!

If he did tag along, it would be to Lanayru with his knowledge of the cold weather

He would rattle off safety facts of mountain weather and gear you would need, and you would be happy to listen as long as he was talking to you

Revali would also love to hear about your old life, and since you could go on for hours about it all, he would sit and absorb everything that came out of your mouth

He was smitten in a matter of weeks!

He could see the care and sympathy you had for Zelda as she struggled and triumphed in her process of opening her powers, and he appreciated that you could care so much for someone like that

Revali subconsciously protected you even if there was a leaf that fell in the way of your path, as he was always on alert in case someone caught you off guard

As your time came to a close and Zelda awakened her powers, Revali demanded that you stay (with love, of course)

And stay you did, making a bargain with the spirits and living the rest of your second life in the company of the Rito warrior :)

~~~~~~~~~

hope i got this good!! i thought the concept was really neat and i kinda wished they did something like that actually :/ zelda didn't deserve that angst

requests are welcome :)

340 notes · View notes

kjack89 · 3 years

Text

An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 13/14)

When this Author picked up the mantle left behind by the previous Lady Whistledown, it was with the intention of bringing a little levity to the otherwise long and sometimes dull proceedings that encompass the season, and to provide some color commentary that pokes fun at those otherwise generally unwilling to make light of themselves.

To that end, this Author has remarked upon and highlighted the general scandals that accompany this season as every season, the kind that serve to provide some drama to otherwise dull lives, but risk very little in terms of lasting damage.

This Author has never intended for this to cause actual harm, and as such, owes an apology to the Marquess of Enjolras and Mr. Grantaire. This Author does not dabble in morals, or legality; the sole concern of this column has been amusement, and the ruin of two gentlemen otherwise described by most who have met them as good men is something this Author cannot and will not be a part of any longer. While this Author cannot overstate that there was no prior knowledge of the truth behind the Marquess’s marriage, nonetheless the extra attention shone on it by and through this paper has brought harm, and for that, this Author is truly sorry.

While no promises can be made in regards to accidentally reporting similar in the future, this Author will certainly make every attempt to better vet sources before publishing rumor and innuendo. And the promise this Author does make is that the only additional mention of the Marquess of Enjolras or Mr. Grantaire in this paper will be for happy tidings, with best hopes for whatever they may face in the future. LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 6 JUNE 1831

The summons did not arrive with the usual fanfare, so much so that Enjolras almost missed them entirely.

No gilded envelope hand stamped with the King’s own seal, no scarlet-clad guard from the palace delivering it. Just a small, plain parchment envelope instructing Enjolras to attend to His Majesty the King the following day.

In truth, he very nearly almost missed it entirely, since Porter, who normally would have brought him such things, was confined to bed for the immediate future as he recovered – and the surgeon had been quite strict in his instructions. But Grantaire, far less used to having the number of servants Enjolras did, had seen it sitting on the table in the foyer and brought it into the dining room with him when he came in for breakfast.

“This is good news,” he told Grantaire after scanning through the note, though Grantaire didn’t look convinced.

“To be summoned in front of those with the power to strip you of your titles and lands and throw you in the Tower for the rest of your days, unless they decide to chop off your head instead?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Better a meeting with the King and Queen than the constable,” he pointed out. “Besides, there’s a limit to what they can do, and if they’re intervening now, it will serve to prevent the worst from happening.” He stood to leave the breakfast table before pausing and bending to kiss the top of Grantaire’s head. “In any case, the usual death in this situation would be by hanging, not beheading.”

“Because that’s so comforting a thought,” Grantaire said sourly.

“It should be.”

Grantaire stared at him. “The thought of you being hanged instead of beheaded?”

Enjolras gave him a look. “No, that the King wants to meet with me. I’m not fool enough to think my death by anything other than old age would bring you any comfort.”

Grantaire pretended to consider it. “Going out in a blaze of glory as you attempt to bring the whole damned system to its knees might.”

“Only if you are by my side as proof that I have won you over in the end.”

Grantaire’s expression softened for a moment. “I would die by your side in an instant, but I don’t think that’s proof of anything.” He kissed Enjolras before returning to the subject at hand. “In any case, why should the King wanting to meet with you bring me any comfort whatsoever?”

“Because it means the Crown wants this handled quickly and quietly,” Enjolras said. “Meaning very likely no public trial, and almost certainly no public execution.”

“That would be more comforting without the qualifiers ‘very likely’ and ‘almost certainly’.”

Enjolras sighed. “There is very little in life that is absolutely certain besides death and taxes.”

Grantaire smirked. “And as I have heard you rail about numerous times, the certainty of taxes is not always applied evenly.”

“Do you know, that may be the most romantic thing you have ever said to me,” Enjolras said, grinning at him.

“Oh, hush,” Grantaire said, but he was laughing, and seemed, for the moment at least, to forget his concerns about Enjolras’s impending appointment with the Crown.

They resurfaced in full force the following day as Enjolras adjusted his cravat while waiting for the carriage to pull around. “How do I look?” he asked, and Grantaire cast a baleful eye at him.

“Dressed well enough for a meeting with the King and Queen, and not at all like you’re headed to imprisonment or worse.”

Enjolras managed not to roll his eyes, mostly because he did not think it would help the situation. “Luckily for both us, I highly doubt the latter options will come to pass.”

But Grantaire didn’t smile, just reaching out to take Enjolras’s hand. “Just come back to me,” he whispered.

“I have every intention of doing so,” Enjolras told him, his voice low.

Grantaire sighed. “You know I’m going to be a nervous wreck until you do,” he said. “Just like I am every time you’re in danger, even if normally you’re the idiot who’s put yourself there.”

Enjolras half-smiled. “Arguably I’ve put myself in this danger as well.”

Grantaire gave him a look. “We’ve had this argument before,” he said evenly.

“Yes, and I still refuse to cast any blame on you.”

Grantaire just shook his head. “An argument we’ll have to continue another time, it seems.”

Now Enjolras managed a real smile. “Yes, and all the more reason for me to return. You know I hate to leave a fight unfinished.”

“No, you hate to leave a fight unwon,” Grantaire said pointedly, but for the first time all morning, he looked a little less miserable, and Enjolras took that as a small win in and of itself.

“Are they not one and the same?” he asked innocently, leaning in to kiss Grantaire, who stopped him, his face falling again.

“Enjolras—” he started, and Enjolras frowned.

“What?”

Grantaire searched his expression for a moment before blurting, “I have never once wished you to be less than who you are, and I do not wish it now. The man I love does not back down from a challenge, and his tongue is sharper than any sword.” He paused as if choosing his next words carefully. “But I beg of you, tread lightly. I will not love you less for holding back if it means you survive to fight another day.”

Enjolras did kiss him then, a slow, heated kiss that said hopefully everything he couldn’t bring himself. “I cannot promise my mouth will not get me in trouble. But I do promise I will not deliberately seek it out.” Grantaire made a face and Enjolras gave him a pointed look. “It’s as good a promise as you will get from me.”

“I know.”

“And yet you don’t seem satisfied.”

Grantaire sighed. “I will be satisfied when you are home with me again.”

“And with luck, that will be before you know it,” Enjolras told him bracingly, so convincingly that he almost believed it himself, enough to get him out the door and into the carriage before finally allowing himself to feel the nerves he’d been trying to swallow all morning.

What he had told Grantaire was the truth: this meeting almost certainly meant no real punishment was in store for him.

But he had very little idea of what was in store for him. And that worried him most of all.

----------

Enjolras slowly closed the door behind him, unsurprised when Grantaire immediately appeared from the drawing room, a glass of whiskey in hand, which, judging by the glassiness of his eyes, wasn’t the first he’d had. “Are you ruined?” he asked.

“Define ruined,” Enjolras said, a little grimly.

Grantaire scowled. “Perhaps now is not the time to be glib.”

Enjolras just shook his head as he crossed to him, dropping a kiss on his lips and grabbing the glass of whiskey from his hand, downing it in one gulp. “I wasn’t,” he rasped, handing the glass back to Grantaire and making his way into the drawing room. “The fact is that there is a limit to the punishment I can receive, barring criminal conviction and without an Act of Parliament.” He collapsed onto the couch, reaching up automatically to loosen his cravat. “The Crown has taken what actions it can, which is to say, I am no longer the Viscount of Digne.”

He delivered the words solemnly, but Grantaire just blinked in response. “I did not realize that you were.”

“It is a customary title bestowed upon the current Marquess of Enjolras, with some associated lands,” Enjolras said with a shrug. “Both will be given to more deserving peers, I’m sure.” He hesitated before adding, “Also, none of our issue will be eligible to inherit my title or any lands, save for that which I own outright.”

Grantaire stared blankly at him. “Any of our issue?” he repeated. “As in children?”

Enjolras made a face. “Well, technically my issue. I don’t think the Crown cares so much about yours.” He cleared his throat. “But if I were to remarry and sire children, none of those children would inherit.”

Grantaire raised both eyebrows. “And what are the chances of that?”

“Absolutely none,” Enjolras said, barking a dry laugh. “The King has also told me that my services to his Court will no longer be necessary, meaning my various ceremonial duties will doled out to others and my power at Court, so to speak, is diminished. Beyond that, I retain my title of Marquess and associated lands and riches, which means I will lead a very comfortable life.” He reached out for Grantaire’s hand, lacing their fingers together before raising his hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “With you at my side, and without having to hide. So to answer your question, no, I don’t consider that ruin. I consider that a gift.”

Grantaire looked relieved, but he still hesitated. “Even though I will be almost certainly landless and penniless?” he asked, and when Enjolras just frowned at him, he sighed and elaborated, “I doubt highly my father will continue to grant me my allowance and use of the houses when he receives Le Cabuc’s letter.”

Enjolras squeezed his hand. “The Enjolras purse has sustained this family for generations. There’s more than enough left to take care of the man I love.”

Grantaire searched his expression for a moment. “Yet you don’t seem completely satisfied. What else did the King say?”

“Well—”

Before Enjolras could elaborate further, someone cleared her throat from the doorway, and they both turned to look at Enjolras’s mother, who looked unusually somber. “Am I interrupting?”

On instinct alone, Enjolras started to pull his hand away from Grantaire’s, but Grantaire held tight, squaring his shoulders as he met Enjolras’s mother’s expression coolly. “As a matter of fact, you are. Your son and I are having a private conversation.”

He turned back to Enjolras, who tried not to laugh at the look on his mother’s face. But to his surprise, his mother did not immediately snap some dismissive rebuttal, instead inclining her head slightly. “And you have my apologies for intruding, especially at this trying time. But I need to speak to my son, alone, especially in light of his recent visit to the palace.”

Enjolras wasn’t surprised that she had somehow heard about his summons. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of me,” Grantaire said firmly. “Your son and I are sharing our lives, and that includes dealing with whatever family affairs you’ve brought with you.” He again turned to look at her. “And need I remind you, your part in our deception has not yet been revealed, but I will be more than happy to tell anyone and everyone who will listen what drove your son to the desperation of a fake marriage in the first place. I doubt highly your friends among the nobility will be impressed by what they learn.”

Enjolras’s mother’s lips pursed, but again, Enjolras was completely thrown by her response. “Thank you,” she said simply, and Grantaire’s cold expression slipped as he glanced over at Enjolras, who just shrugged. “I can see that you are protective of my son, and while I may not appreciate your tone, I do appreciate knowing that my son has found someone who loves him as...vigorously as you clearly do.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed, but Enjolras cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he told Grantaire, squeezing his hand once more. “I trust her enough to have a conversation with her, and I can fight my own battles as needed.”

“Are you certain?” Grantaire asked in an undertone, eyeing Enjolras’s mother warily. “I believe you can fight your own battles, but it’s her I don’t trust…”

Enjolras rolled his eyes affectionately. “I have managed this long,” he assured him.

“Fine.” Grantaire stood, but before leaving, he bent and kissed Enjolras, a long, slow kiss that Enjolras was fairly certain was for his mother’s benefit more than his own.

Not that he minded, since getting to kiss Grantaire and enrage his mother in the same blow was as close to perfection as Enjolras was likely to see in his lifetime.

Then Grantaire straightened again and winked at Enjolras before finally leaving, sidling past his mother with little more than a second glance. For her part, his mother looked mostly impassive at the display she had just witnessed, and she finally fully entered the room, perching imperiously on the armchair. “I suppose it’s too much to hope for tea,” she said with a sniff.

Enjolras barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. “You might have heard that my butler was attacked,” he said sourly. “I’m sorry if him being laid up recovering from being shot is inconvenient to you.”

“I did hear about Porter, yes, but that’s not to what I was referring,” she said. “Have the servants started fleeing en masse?”

“None have yet offered their resignations, if that’s what you mean,” Enjolras said.

“Of course it’s what I mean,” she snapped. “This is a tainted household now – I doubt most will want to stay. Especially as they’ve no way to ingratiate themselves with whomever the next Marquess will be.” Her lips pursed again. “Do you even know which distant relative is your heir, now that you will almost certainly never sire children of your own?”

Enjolras shrugged unconcernedly. “A third cousin, isn’t it? Lives somewhere out in the west, if memory serves.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “I’m surprised you know that.”

“You once told me all about him when I threatened to abdicate after Father died,” Enjolras said mildly. “You seemed to think it would convince me to think otherwise.”

“Clearly it did.”

Enjolras laughed dryly. “I hate to tell you, Mother, but that actually played a very small part in my decision.”

She scowled. “Perhaps you should have abdicated back then. It may have made for an easier transition for all involved.”

“Perhaps so,” Enjolras said honestly, as it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed his mind. “But we are well past that point now.”

“In more ways than one.” She paused, giving him a searching look. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in trying to convince you to reconsider.”

Enjolras shook his head. “None.”

His mother nodded, her expression unreadable. “Then that’s the end of it.”

Enjolras hesitated, before saying, as casually as he could manage, “You seem…decidedly less surprised by this whole situation than I would expect.”

“What precisely is there to be surprised about?” she asked.

There were any number of things that Enjolras had expected her to be either shocked or scandalized by, let alone surprised, but the look on her face stopped him. “You mean…you knew?”

“That you were…otherwise inclined?” she provided delicately. “Of course I knew. A mother always knows.” Her expression twisted. “Though I rather hoped you would grow out of it, or at least do the sensible thing and marry a woman while seeking your amusement elsewhere.”

Enjolras shook his head slowly. “I’m not certain I see that as the sensible thing.”

She considered it for a moment before shrugging. “Perhaps not,” she said. “But more sensible than being stripped of your lands and titles.”

“Not all my lands, or all my titles,” Enjolras told her. “The Viscount of Digne is the only major one.”

She made a face. “No real loss there, the bishop in that area rules it with an iron fist and will probably be glad to see the backside of our family.”

Enjolras trusted her to know more about it than he did or frankly cared to. “And there’s a few minor lands that will be redistributed but for the most part, Grantaire and I have made it out unscathed.”

Again his mother made a face. “I don’t know that I would go that far—”

“I imagine you wouldn’t,” Enjolras muttered.

“—But all things considered, it could have been much worse.”

On that, at least, she was correct. “And I’m certain you’ll be glad to know that your own holdings will not be affected, nor your allowance,” he told her. “And Grantaire is letting you keep the dowry.”

That seemed to surprise her. “That is...generous of him,” she allowed, before frowning at her son. “But you speak as if all you think I care about is money.”

Enjolras just arched an eyebrow. “You have given me little evidence to suggest otherwise.”

“Caring about the well-being of my only son isn’t evidence enough?”

He managed not to roll his eyes, but just barely. “Faux sincerity isn’t your strong suit, Mother,” he informed her. “If you wish to convince me, you’ll have to try a different tack.”

To his surprise, she laughed lightly. “Maybe I will, when all the dust has settled,” she said, standing and brushing invisible dust from her skirt before telling him, “I will be leaving the city for the near future, and possibly even the country for a bit. I need my friends and allies at court to think that I was not party to this.”

“You weren’t,” Enjolras said, his brow furrowed. “And you are certainly at liberty to tell anyone you need to as such.”

“I have, and I will,” she said. “But I will also not outwardly condemn you the way they would wish, and that to some is enough to make them think otherwise.”

For the first time in what Enjolras was certain was his entire life, he was speechless. He had frankly expected her to do exactly that in order to maintain her social standing. “You could,” he blurted, ignoring the raised eyebrow she gave him. “Condemn us, I mean. I would not hold it against you if you did.”

“You and I both know that you absolutely would,” she said dryly. “But more than that, you are my son. For all your faults and all our disagreements, public and otherwise, that has never changed. And it will not change now.”

Enjolras was again taken aback by what she said. “Thank you,” he managed, before adding, a little wryly, “I think.”

A small smile crossed her face. “You’re welcome, I think. And now I should leave you to the start of your new life.”

She turned to head to the door, clearly deeming her role in this complete for the time being, but Enjolras stopped her, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What do you think of Grantaire?” he asked. “Now that you know what he is to me.”

She looked back at him, surprised. “You have never sought my approval before.”

“And I’m not seeking it now,” Enjolras said. “Just curious what you think.”

She nodded slowly. “He is not who I would have chosen for you,” she said after a long moment. “But then again, this life is not what I would have chosen for you.”

It was no more than what Enjolras had expected, but before he could say anything, she continued, “I know what you think of me, that you think me cold, and vain, and cruel. And there is certainly more than a little truth to that.” He looked up at her sharply, surprised by this most of all. “I know I shall always play the role of villain in your story. But despite what you may think, I have only ever wanted you to be happy.” She hesitated. “And it makes me terribly sad to know you have chosen a path where the world very well may never let you be happy.”

Enjolras just shook his head slowly. “The difference between you and I, Mother, is that I have never needed the approval of the world to be happy.” He gave her a sharp smile. “Hang what anyone else thinks. So long as I have Grantaire, we will make our own happiness.”

She returned his smile. “I do not doubt that you will. As I said before, you two make quite the pair, and whatever else you may think, I am glad that you two found each other.”

With that, she left, and Enjolras sat where he was for a long moment, digesting everything that had transpired. This had been a day of surprises, from his meeting with the King and Queen to now his conversation with his mother, and he shook his head slowly before standing to go find Grantaire.

He found him in the library, sitting sideways in an oversized armchair, his legs draped over the arm of the chair as he skimmed through a book with seemingly little interest. He brightened when he saw Enjolras come in, tipping his head up automatically for a kiss. “Is she gone?” he asked as Enjolras settled onto the sofa across from him.

“For now, yes.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “But not forever?”

Enjolras shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not even this scandal was enough to be rid of her forever. But I am...strangely not as bothered by that thought as I once would have been.”

Grantaire blinked. “Did she hit you on the head while she was in there with you?”

“Something like that, anyway,” Enjolras said with a laugh. “But enough about my mother. Where were we?”

He eyed Grantaire appreciatively, mentally trying to determine the mechanics of what they could do with him in that position, and Grantaire scowled. “Certainly not doing that,” he informed him, sitting upright. “You were finishing telling me about your audience with the King and Queen.”

“Oh. Right.” Enjolras shrugged and looked away. “Well, the Archbishop is apparently pushing for us to be excommunicated.”

Grantaire snorted. “Does that mean I no longer have to go to church?” he asked idly.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Well, among other things. But there’s an issue.”

“What’s that?”

“We could be imprisoned if we’re excommunicated, for a start.”

Grantaire just arched an eyebrow. “Just as we could be imprisoned for sodomy?”

Enjolras made a face. “The Crown has no intention of pursuing those charges,” he said. “But getting excommunicated could lend credence to future attempts at levying those charges, at likely the least opportune time.”

Grantaire considered it for a moment. “Well. We’ve faced worse prospects.”

Enjolras frowned. “You seem remarkably blasé about the prospect of excommunication, considering how concerned you’ve been about the possibility of imprisonment or worse for the other charges.”

“Mostly because you don’t seem particularly worried about it, and I imagine if this were an actual threat, you’d be somewhat less calm,” Grantaire said evenly. “Besides, I had several glasses of whiskey while you were out so it will take quite a bit for me to get riled at this point.”

“You didn’t seem to have any difficulty getting riled at my mother,” Enjolras pointed out.

Grantaire smiled grimly. “That was a more immediate danger.”

Enjolras shook his head. “Well, you’re not wrong about this not being an actual threat, I suppose. The Monarchy has little desire to create a public spectacle via excommunication and as the Head of the Church, I imagine that’s the end of the matter.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “Does that mean you’re actually going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Excommunication isn’t enough?” Enjolras asked, mostly rhetorically, and when Grantaire just gave him a look, he sighed. “Fine… I need to get word to Combeferre and Courfeyrac. We have much to discuss ahead of our next meeting.”

“Are you purposefully avoiding the question, or…?”

“I promise I am not,” Enjolras said, his voice low. “But they need to know, because this concerns all of us.” He paused, trying to figure out how to word what he needed to tell both Grantaire and his closest lieutenants. “I was...as surprised as any that the King did not wish to pursue any additional punitive matters. As a whole, the punishment dealt to me is mild, to say the least. And what troubles me is the reason he gave for why.”

Grantaire frowned. “He gave you a reason?”

Enjolras barked a dry, humorless laugh. “Oh, he gave me many. Most were mere platitudes, that out of respect for the service of my father, he would take no additional measures, etcetera, but he also alluded to his hope that our...situation would not inconvenience my political work.” He cleared his throat before adding sardonically, “That he hoped our allies would not abandon us with my public declaration of depravity.”

“And you suspect he actually hopes the opposite,” Grantaire said slowly.

Enjolras nodded. “I’m not going to pretend that my political sympathies are or have ever been well-received at court, and I think most were content to look the other way and pretend that the protests and political actions were the fun side project of an otherwise bored noble. Something I would grow out of in time. But now…”

He trailed off, and Grantaire’s expression turned grim. “Now they might not be so content to look the other way.”

“No,” Enjolras agreed. “And if I or any of our number were to get arrested—”

“Arrested again, you mean,” Grantaire said with the hint of a smile that Enjolras did not return.

“—My position is no longer enough to stave off any significant consequences.”

Grantaire went very still. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning I may not be ruined. We may not be ruined. But Les Amis may be.”

----------

In lieu of coming over to Enjolras’s to discuss the situation, Combeferre suggested via return message that they call a special meeting of Les Amis. “That seems unusual,” Grantaire murmured, his brow furrowed as he read over the brief message. “Why would they not just come here?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Perhaps they don’t want to be seen entering a den of sin,” he said, more blithely than he remotely felt.

“Jest all you wish, but you cannot pretend the thought hasn’t entered your mind,” Grantaire said. “Not that I believe any of our friends will turn on us entirely, but they are all trying to make marriages of their own, and to be tainted by association…”

He trailed off, and Enjolras just shook his head. “That is their prerogative, and I will not hold it against any man to abide by his conscience.”

“Or by the prospect of increasing his purse?” Grantaire asked sourly.

Enjolras shrugged again. “If that is truly their reasoning, I doubt highly we would be associates for much longer in any case.”

Still, it was with an unusual amount of trepidation that they approached the Musain, and Enjolras hesitated before instructing his driver to drop them off at the back of the building by the worker’s entrance. “I do not doubt they would still receive us at the front entrance,” he told Grantaire. “I am, after all, still a marquess and a certain amount of respect must be paid. But I would rather not put them in that position all the same.”

Grantaire managed a wan smile. “You need not explain yourself to me,” he said. “I understand as well as any that the situation is complicated.”

Enjolras glanced at him. “Speaking of,” he said carefully, “have you heard yet from your father?”

“No.” Grantaire’s tone was clipped as he avoided meeting Enjolras’s eyes, looking out the carriage window instead. “I have not heard from him one way or another, so I have no indication if he has yet received Le Cabuc’s letter.”

“Could Le Cabuc have been bluffing?”

Grantaire shrugged. “Anything’s possible, but I doubt it,” he said. “He always did prefer my father to me.” He hesitated before adding, “I thought I might make a preemptive trip back to the house and gather some belongings. Just some personal effects, and things from my mother and sister that I would rather not lose to my father’s whims.”

Enjolras nodded slowly. “That is probably not a terrible idea.” He hesitated before asking, “Do you wish for me to accompany you?”

“I suspect that would cause more problems than it’s worth,” Grantaire said. “If I go by myself, I can hopefully slip in and out mostly unnoticed.”

Enjolras had expected that answer, but he couldn’t pretend that it didn’t sting, just a little. “Of course.”

Something of what he was feeling must’ve shown on his face, but Grantaire’s expression softened as he added, “Which doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t love for you to return with me, or that I won’t miss you dreadfully while I’m gone.”

“But this is the reality of the life we’ve chosen,” Enjolras said heavily. “Going in the servants’ entrance to avoid being seen. Travelling incognito to not cause a scene. Less visitors or invitations to visit because people won’t wish to be associated with us.”

Grantaire eyed him warily. “I feel as though you are trying to make a point.”

Enjolras shrugged. “Just that I do not care about any of those things. But I would understand if you did, and if the reality of our life together does not align with what you may otherwise have expected.”

To his surprise, Grantaire laughed. “How many times must you and I have this conversation?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I wish that you had chosen a better life for yourself than one stuck with me, who was always titleless and is about to be in short order landless and penniless to boot, just as you wish I had chosen a better life for myself,” Grantaire said, a little impatiently. “But you and I both know that the best choice, the only choice, is each other and whatever accompanies that.”

Enjolras laughed as well, feeling a little relieved that they were on the same page in terms of what mattered. “You’re right.”

“I usually am,” Grantaire said smugly before reaching for Enjolras’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Une vie et un amour, remember?”

“Fidelitas usque ad mortem,” Enjolras said, his voice low, and Grantaire smiled.

“And I still aim to be.”

Together, they stepped down from the carriage and made their way into the Musain through the backdoor. The workers they passed barely gave them second glances, though Enjolras assumed that was likely because they recognized them as frequent patrons, and knew better than to stop or question them.

But despite arriving almost a half hour before the meeting Combeferre had called was set to begin, when they reached the backroom, they could hear the buzz of voices through the closed door. Grantaire gave him a startled look. “Has the meeting already begun?”

“It certainly appears that way,” Enjolras said, feeling inexplicably nervous as he stared at the closed door, straining to hear what was being said beyond it.

“Did Combeferre not say that it would start at 9?”

Enjolras nodded. “He did, but…” He trailed off, not willing to vocalize his doubts. Instead, he squared his shoulders and opened the door, walking in with Grantaire at his side. Combeferre and Courfeyrac stood at the front of the room, the rest of their number assembled, all looking unusually somber, and all conversation stalled as soon as they looked back at Enjolras. “Forgive the interruption,” Enjolras said coolly, closing the door behind him. “I did not realize the hour of our meeting had changed.”

“It didn’t,” Combeferre said, his expression impassive. “But there was certain business we felt we should attend to before your arrival.”

“What sort of business?” Grantaire asked with a frown.

Combeferre did not seem deterred by his tone. “The business of determining if your continued membership amongst our association is beneficial or a detriment, mostly.”

“I see,” Enjolras said, his heart sinking in his chest. “Well, don’t let us impede your discussion.”

“We have nothing left to discuss,” Courfeyrac interjected. “All that remains is to vote.”

Grantaire reached out and took Enjolras’s hand, lacing their fingers together firmly. Combeferre cleared his throat. “All those in favor of expelling Enjolras and Grantaire from our number due to their sexual deviance and the threat that it poses to Les Amis and our efforts?”

Not a single hand rose in the air, and Grantaire squeezed Enjolras’s hand.

“And all those opposed?”

As one, all of their friends raised their hands before standing and applauding. Joly and Bossuet were positively beaming, Courfeyrac wolf-whistled, and Combeferre stepped forward to embrace Enjolras. “There was never any doubt which way the vote would go,” he told Enjolras, “but I knew you would not be satisfied if there was no vote at all.”

“Besides, if we start exiling people for buggery, there are more than a few of us who would be in trouble,” Courfeyrac said cheerfully as he embraced Enjolras as well.

“Hear, hear,” Bahorel chortled.

Joly took Bossuet’s hand and squeezed it. “Grantaire helped us avoid a scandal of our own, and we owe him our loyalty,” he said. “Besides which, I swore to go through fire for you, and I would not forsake that oath lightly.”

“Thank you, my friends,” Enjolras said quietly, his chest tight with emotion.

Grantaire squeezed his hand once more before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “It appears I am not the only one who understands the meaning of loyalty until death.” Enjolras wordlessly squeezed his hand in return and Grantaire smiled at him before asking Courfeyrac, “But one of our number is missing, is he not? Where is your erstwhile roommate this evening?”

“Oh, he has found the girl he was looking for,” Courfeyrac said airily. “It turns out your little announcement was good for more than one thing – she was the one who swooned in his arms!”

Much laughter greeted that announcement and Enjolras shook his head. “Leave it to Marius…” he started before trailing off, glancing around the room at the smiling faces of each of his friends, all those whom he loved most in this world. “Thank you all,” he said softly. “I know this will not be easy, but I appreciate your continued faith and love.”

“Our goal has always been to fight against oppressive powers in whatever form,” Combeferre told him. “And condemning men based on consensual acts in their bed chamber would be playing into that oppression.”

“Just promise us one thing,” Bossuet interjected.

Enjolras raised both eyebrows. “What’s what?”

“No funny business,” Bossuet said, mock-sternly. “No suddenly agreeing with everything the other says just because it’s your lover saying it.”

Again everyone laughed and Enjolras shook his head good-naturedly. “I don’t think we’re in much danger of that.”

“After all,” Grantaire added slyly, “what I love far more than him agreeing with me is that delightful shade of red he gets when he so vehemently disagrees with me. Who am I to give that up now?”

“In truth,” Enjolras said when the laughter again died down, “we aim to keep things as much the same as we can.”

“And we’ll be relying on you lot to keep it that way,” Grantaire said.

“There’s one other promise we would ask,” Feuilly said, glancing around. “Or at least, that I would ask.”

Enjolras’s smile faded, just slightly, at Feuilly’s far more serious tone. “If it is in our power to grant it, we will.”

“No more lies.” There were a few murmurs of agreement that Feuilly waited to die down before continuing, “There is not a man among us who does not understand the reason for your deception, but we in this room are brothers, and we deserve the truth no matter what consequence it may bring.”

Grantaire took Enjolras’s hand once more and squeezed it before affirming, “No more lies. We owe not just you the truth from here on out, but each other as well. And it’s the very least that we can give in return for your generosity and personal sacrifices.”

“In that case, let us open the wine and get the celebration started,” Jehan called, standing up on his chair to be seen. “To Enjolras and Grantaire!”

“To Enjolras and Grantaire!” everyone repeated, whatever glasses they had in hand, and Enjolras rolled his eyes with obvious affection before leaning in and kissing Grantaire as everyone cheered.

Grantaire was grinning as he pulled away, and that sight alone was enough to make everything they had endured and everything that they had left to endure absolutely worth it in Enjolras’s opinion. But before he could say anything to that effect to Grantaire, Joly and Bossuet grabbed Grantaire by both arms, tugging him away. “You owe us more than mere truth,” Joly said, with an almost evil grin. “You owe us details.”

“Exactly,” Bossuet said, wearing a matching smile. “And we want to hear all about your first time bedding Enjolras.”

“We promised the truth, not all the gory details,” Grantaire protested, making a pleading face at Enjolras, who just laughed.

Before he could rescue him, Combeferre pulled him aside. “I wanted a moment, if it is not too much of an imposition.”

Enjolras clapped him on the shoulder. “For you, my friend, never. Especially as I believe I owe you especially an apology for our deceit.”

Combeferre shook his head. “I understand it more now,” he said. “And honestly, I’m surprised I did not put the pieces together earlier.”

“Grantaire said he was always a little obvious, even if I never noticed either,” Enjolras said good-naturedly.

But Combeferre just shook his head. “Grantaire may have been, but it’s you I should have noticed.”

“Me?”

Combeferre shrugged. “Looking back on it, all the clues were there, least of all how you allowed Grantaire to stay, not just for meetings, but well into the night when you were ostensibly working, a privilege bestowed on no one else. And I cannot help but think that if I had noticed sooner, we would have had more time to plan, to minimize the fallout.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “My friend, you could have told me until you were blue in the face that I was completely and obviously in love with Grantaire, and I would never have believed you,” he said. “It was something I needed to figure out with him.” He made a face. “Though you are right that I should have told you sooner, before we made our announcement, so that plans could have been made in advance, and for that, I do owe you an apology.”

“One that I readily accept,” Combeferre told him. “And the only recompense I ask from you is the answer to this: are you happy?”

“Yes,” Enjolras said, without even needing to consider it. “More so than I thought was possible, or at least probable.”

Combeferre gave him a wide, genuine smile. “Then the rest we will deal with when or if the time comes.”

Again, Enjolras’s chest felt tight with emotion, with the weight of how much his friends cared for him and Grantaire. “I truly do not know how to thank you, how to thank everyone, for what you have given Grantaire and myself.”

“There is no need to thank us,” Combeferre said. “Especially since you have given us something equally precious.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are free,” Combeferre said simply. “And that gives the rest of us hope.”

----------

Enjolras let out a sigh of relief mingled with happiness as he sat down in the waiting carriage. Grantaire clambered in after him, and sat down on the bench next to him instead of sitting across from him. “That went well.”

“That went far better than well,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire glanced sideways at him. “Surely you did not expect Combeferre or Courfeyrac to abandon you, or honestly any of our friends.”

Enjolras just shrugged. “In truth, I did not know what to expect.” He nudged Grantaire gently. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Whatever for?”

“For making my life complete,” Enjolras said honestly. “And so completely happy.”

Grantaire smiled at him, his eyes shining even in the dim light of the carriage, but he promptly ruined the moment by asking, “How much wine did you drink?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I had half a glass at best,” he protested. “Not nearly enough to undermine my sincerity. Nor my conviction that somehow, against all odds and, frankly, against our own efforts to the contrary, everything for us is turning out better than I ever could have imagined, let alone hoped.”

Grantaire rested his head against Enjolras’s shoulder. “We have been extraordinarily lucky,” he murmured.

“We have been,” Enjolras agreed, squeezing Grantaire’s hand. “We have our friends, and we have each other. Whatever else comes our way, so long as we still have that, we will be fine.”

“More than fine,” Grantaire corrected, raising Enjolras’s hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “Our future will be happy. Of that, I am as certain as anything.”

“Being in love really has changed you if you suddenly start espousing convictions,” Enjolras teased.

But Grantaire just smiled at him. “It’s changed us both.”

“For the better?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire kissed him, a gentle, sweet kiss that was a promise of more to come. “For the best.”

#enjolras #grantaire #exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #les amis #bridgerton au #canon era #regency au #chaptered #part 13 #fake marriage

27 notes · View notes

writer-akihiko · 3 years

Text

Chapter 8 - Pasts [STARISH]

This chapter is tagged [#spoilers for days] due to some content containing spoilers from the Utapri games.

Chapter 9 →

Otoya Ittoki

He had brought you to a special place as a symbol of your first date. The building looked like some sort of kindergarten, with the many children playing outside.

"Otoyan!" A little girl called. The children looked at your boyfriend, all having wide eyes of joy.

"Hey guys!" Otoya did a childish pose for them. He brought your hand in his, introducing you to the children.

"This is my darling YN! Everyone, please be nice with her!" He said, hugging you.

"Otoyan was supposed to marry me!" A girl with pigtails said.

Another little boy took her hand. "You can marry me instead!"

"Alright!"

You giggled at the cuteness.

Once the children dispersed, Otoya told you about the place, "This orphanage was where I grew up in. It's a special place to me..."

"Otoya..."

"And now, you're the special one in my life."

Masato Hijirikawa

You carried your duffel bag on your shoulder, walking to Masato's room. The crack in door shone the light in, but Masato's voice from the room was not comforting.

He was speaking in a low tone, sounding almost fierce. You've heard stern in games, but this was deathly fierce.

"YN?" Masato put his phone down, seeing you at the crack of his door. "Did... Did you overhear me?"

You walked in, setting your bag down. "I didn't pay attention... You were kinda fierce..."

He held his head down. "It's..."

You motioned him to sit on his bed next to you. You held him, letting his head lean on your shoulders. "Now you can tell me."

"It's my father," He said. "He pressures me. I wasn't supposed to be an idol. He laid out my life for me as a businessman. We made a deal... I would stay here for a year and then take over his business..."

You jolted up, forcing Masato's body to fall into your lap. "You... You're kidding right?"

"What?" He got up in confusion.

You hugged Masato, laughing. "Who knew we'd be in the same situation?!"

"Wait... so youー"

"Mama always wanted me to take charge of her bridal company," You explained. "My Papa didn't care; he taught me basketball. I made a deal that if I win the nationals, then I could stay in the Academy."

He brushed your hair with his fingers, bringing you in closer. "Looks like we're in this together..." He smiled, his eyes poignant in thought. "Has your mother ever gone to one of your games?"

"Nope. Your dad?"

"Never."

Natsuki Shinomiya

After an eventful baking 'class' ー which consisted of throwing flour at each other ー you cleaned up the bowls and spatulas. You set the timer on the oven, hanging your favourite apron up.

As you were wiping the counter, you noticed that Natsuki's glasses were on the counter. Did he leave them when he was washing his face? You did throw a handful of flour on his face...

You wanted to go check up on Natsuki just in case he needed his glasses.

Eh?

Why was the door locked?

"Natsuki?"

BAM!

"H-Hey... What's going on?"

The door swung open. There Natsuki stood, looking truly pissed.

"Natsuー"

"Stop calling me that! The name's Satsuki. And you..." He panted. "Have to break up with Natsuki."

"What?!"

"Oh honey... He didn't tell you?" He cooed, stepping closer to you. "I'm the beast living inside of him. You thought he was all innocent and sweet. Oh no darling... there's two sides of a coin."

"Why should that matter?!" You said in outrage.

"What?"

You repeated yourself. "Why does having another side of him make any difference? I still love him the way that he is!"

He scoffed, cornering you. In general Natsuki was soft with you but now 'Satsuki' was intimidating you.

"You're just after his talent. A gold digger, aren't you? Dating an idol sure makes youー Hmph!"

You killed him full on the face, wrapping your arms around his neck. You brought him in deeper, bringing your face closer. You sneakily slipped his glasses on at the sly movement of your wrist.

Natsuki now pulled away.

"YN... you taste sweet..."

You turned red. "Natsuki! Stop!"

"Didn't YN-chan kiss me first?" He smiled.

You shook off the embarrassment and asked Natsuki. "Natsuki... Can you explain what Satsuki meant by 'just after his talent'?"

His expression fell. He hugged you tightly to his chest. "I liked my former teacher so much that I made a song her. Then she became famous because of that song. Satsuki just thinks you're trying use me... but... I love you YN... Don't break up with me..."

"You know what he says?"

He nods. "Ever since I dated you, we could hear each other at times... YN, did I scare you?"

You kissed his cheek tenderly. "I could never and will never."

Ren Jinguji

He had invited you over to your next date at his house, since he claimed he 'wanted to show you his charismatic side'. When you entered the house, the main butler had told you that Ren was not back from his modelling appointment.

You decided to explore Ren's home by yourself. You walked around silently until you came across a family portrait of the Jinguji family. In the centre was a supposed younger Ren on his mother's lap as his two brothers stood by his mother, one on each side. His father stood proudly, holding the shoulder of his wife.

"It looks like my fairy decided to magically appear in my humble abode," Ren whispered into your ear.

"Ren!" You pushed his body away only for him to trap you in his arms.

He smiled and let you go. He then turned to the painting of the wall and his expression stiffened. "YN... Who took you here?"

"I wandered on my own," You replied curtly, uneasy about how forward he was. Sure, you are often frank but for Ren to do so is a little strange.

"Let's go to the gardens," Ren took you by the hand. "It was rude of me to leave you alone and to come late to our date as well."

You shrugged it off. "I did not mind... I was examining the regal decor of your home."

He tighten his hand slightly. "Were you intrigued by the family portrait?"

"Yes."

"I'll tell you of it in the garden."

~○~

You and Ren had tea together at the gazebo in the gardens. You gave time for Ren to muster up his courage, not pressing on the matter.

"You must be wondering where the lady of the house is," He said. You nodded, your eyes sparkling in curiosity.

"Well she's sitting across from me with such magical eyes..." He winked. You simply gave him a hard stare at his comment.

He chuckled, then took your hand in his. "The lady of the house ー my mother ー passed away. As well as my father," He explained. "When my mother passed away, my father got rid of anything related to her... My brother finally put up the one family portrait we had after his passing."

"Your mother is incredibly beautiful... I wish I had met mine..." You earnestly told him. "My birth mother passed away after I was born."

He took your hand and kissed it. "She would be proud to have a daughter like you."

Cecil Aijima

The two had nothing much behind your pasts that would shock the other in all honesty. It didn't surprise you that he was a prince, especially with the way he acts.

The main reason was Cecil being so honest with you. You had mentioned one thing to Cecil which you think he didn't understand. It was the fact your family was a yakuza group.

You were inspired to pursue theatre by your cousin, who currently is doing acting in Mankai Theatre.

Cecil unfortunately found out when bodyguards tailing you two nabbed him and interrogated him. Much less to say, there was nothing tragic in the past to harm your relationship. Well... with the exception of your cousin.

Syo Kurusu

He confessed his past in an... unexpected way. Your family called him to confess his past ー with several spears at his neck ー which he complied with.

"I have a twin brother, mother and father. My mother is an orchestra conductor and my father is a stylist. I was born with a heart condition andー" He panicked as the blade reached closer. "I will give YN no harm; please let me go." He pleaded.

"Grandpa, please let him go. He does no harm..." You said, on your knees. "Syo even swore to wait for me."

"Release him."

After comforting Syo, he swore to never break his promise. "I won't let them kill you," You told him.

Tokiya Ichinose

You had asked Tokiya to assist you in cleaning your room since you were moving dorms. As you cleaned through your closet, Tokiya took off the photos that hung on your wall. One particular photo was of you sitting in the middle of many men.

"Are these your relatives?" He asked.

"My brothers..." You said. "There's 10 of them."

He seemed surprised. "I hope I meet them someday... How did your mother manage that?"

You shook your head. "They're my foster brothers. Actually, we're all adopted. My dads adopted all of us from the streets separately."

"I'm sorry to say..." He said. "Please stop me if I'm getting too deep. Did you know your parents?"

You shook your head again. "I'm a dumpster baby. I was probably the product of some one-night stand gone wrong."

Seeing you solemn, he expressed his own thoughts. "I know how it feels to not be wanted to say the least. My parents divorced and they never supported my idol career."

You were shocked. "You're pretty good though at the whole idol thing." You remembered those times watching Tokiya practice.

"You're a pretty good mangaka yourself," He said. "I hope I meet the respectful men who raised you."

You smiled. "Alright! These boxes won't move themselves!"

Chapter 9 →

39 notes · View notes

subbing-for-clones · 3 years

Text

The New Apprentice Part 13

Maul x Apprentice Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

WARNINGS: Pretty sure I got the layout wrong for the Sundari palace but I don’t care. Canon typical violence. Divergence from Canon (obviously by now) mentions to smut

PREVIOUS NEXT MASTERLIST

Just over a month is all it had taken to gain the complete loyalty of the Mandalorian people. If you were being honest with yourself, you were almost surprised. Not in the fact that Maul had been able to accomplish this but at how quickly he had achieved it. The Death Watch members that had remained as your guard had always wanted the head of Satine but now half of the citizens called for it as well while the other half wanted her in prison for life. A month was all it took to remind the people of their rich history and culture that they had all but forgotten Satine had stolen from them. Farm lands were seeded, armor was being forged again, their religion and martial arts were being taught in the schools once again and everyone felt safer than they had in years. They hadn’t realized what they were missing until they had it again. Once they were on track to total planetary independence once again, they wanted nothing more than for the woman who stole it from them to pay.

Maul smiled to himself; his people wanted revenge. How could he not oblige even if it didn’t simultaneously serve to accomplish his ulterior motive? It was time. He had sent Kiara down to the prison with a long-distance communicator so she could falsely convince Satine that she was there to aid her. Before she could get her whole message to her old lover, Kiara destroyed the device. All Obi Wan knew was that the only woman he had ever loved was in danger. Although he thought the perpetrators were members of the Death Watch. He remained ignorant of what he was really going to be walking into.

With Savage out praising Kiara for a job well done, you and your lover were sparring in the court yard just the two of you. Sparring with your lover and Master had become your favorite activity to do together. Well, second favorite you thought as you felt one of the many lovely bruises on the inside of your thigh throb. If you had to describe Maul in a single word it would be passionate. He drew from the well of his hearts more than he probably knew himself. Whether he was making love to you, commanding a room or sparring; every action, every word was embodied by his very soul.

It wasn’t even about training anymore so much as it was a dance with him. The red of your sabers sparked as they clashed and hissed with his joking mock growls as they slashed through the air. The twinkle in his eye that matched yours was permanent during these moments as your bodies glided around one another. The bond you had nurtured during your time together made anticipating one another’s moves effortless. It made victory or defeat almost impossible. Without intervention the two of you would be locked in this dance for all eternity much like an asteroid floating through space. Yes, that’s what it felt like in this moment; drifting through the universe with him.

Days had passed since Savage had trained with his brother. Time between his teachings had grown as the responsibilities piled on both of their shoulders. Savage actually appreciated this, it allowed his relationship with his brother to be just that, a brotherly relationship. Not that of Master and apprentice but not quite equals either. That would come in time. Maul hadn’t grown up like Savage did so the idea was still a foreign one and as far as exploring bonds and relationships went, most of that energy was directed towards you.

It turns out, ruling an entire planet was taxing and time consuming to say the least when done properly. Big surprise. As an attempt to lift some of the weight off of his shoulders Maul had appointed his brother to take the brunt of running the crime syndicates in his name. Savage flourished in his leadership role. He was so intimidating at first glance that no one in the underworld dared question or go against him. Maul only had to be present for the occasional formality and big picture decisions.

The intervention necessary to end your deadly dance came in the form of an intrusive anticipation of Obi Wan’s arrival. When you stumbled your footing, Maul caught you in one of his strong arms and sheathed his saber with his free hand, breaking the trance the two of you had been in for gods know how long.

“My love, are you alright? I haven’t seen you fumble during that particular form since Dathomir,” he ran his free hand across your cheek and if you had a weaker resolve, you would have sobbed at the way he looked at you in this moment. Genuine adoration and worry gleamed in his golden eyes. He looked into you as if you had hung the stars themselves and commanded every ocean in the galaxy. You steadied yourself and cupped his cheek, mirroring his own actions and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Yes, Maul I’m alright. I’m just a little distracted I guess. When do you think the Jedi will fall into your trap?” Maul smiled at your lack of patience.

“I’m not sure, the message was only sent out to him during the early hours of this morning. Soon I would imagine. A few days at most, a few hours at the earliest.” You looked off to the side and sneered, “should I ever be captured you wouldn’t wait days to come and find me.”

He actually laughed out loud at this as he pulled you into a tight embrace and you seared the memory of his laughter as deeply into your mind as you could.

“My love I would never had let you out of my sight long enough for us to be parted in the first place,” he cooed into your ear as he pressed kisses into your hair.

The funny thing about irony is the fact that you can truly only understand the weight of it in hindsight. If he could go back to any minute between your sparing session and that he had a multitude of possible courses of actions that would have altered the current horror he was facing. He should have put you on a ship and sent you away, temporarily or permanently it didn’t matter as long as you were far away from Mandalore that night. You had even mentioned wanting to take a trip with him to a world covered in sand beaches. He should have left with you right then and there when you suggested it. Even if nothing could have been done to alter the course of what had occurred, he wished he had held you a little tighter, kissed you a little longer, told you he loved you one more time before night fell.

He hadn’t sensed his old master’s presence until it was almost too late. His eyes widened and he ordered you to hide your force signature like he had taught you and to run. Run as fast and as far away as you could. You had never been one to argue with him during emergency situations, you had trusted him to make the right calls when it mattered most. Perhaps he should’ve kept you by his side in that moment. He didn’t know. He wished you had never come back.

You had felt Maul’s immediate panic the moment you sensed another strong presence, when he told you to run you didn’t hesitate to follow his order. Leaving your lover and his brother, your best friend alone in the throne room to face an unknown foe broke you in a way you had never broken before. You slipped behind the throne and plunged yourself into the hole beneath it that led to an escape tunnel and ran as silently as you could through the hidden passage way that fanned out through the palace.

You exited the tunnels from behind a tapestry that hung from the stone wall near one of the many side entrances. A ship you didn’t recognize was landing, rather poorly, not far from your location. You did however recognize the Jedi that came running out of it. When his eyes locked with yours you felt his rage radiate from him but his voice remained calm when he spoke.

“So, Maul is behind the coup. Where is Satine and where is your Master?” he held the hilt of his saber in his hands but didn’t ignite it just yet, thumb hovering over the activation button.

“Otherwise occupied at the moment. Your timing is impeccable I must admit,” your hands hovered over your own dual hilts strapped to each leg. Both of you waiting for the other to make an aggressive move, you circled around one another. You couldn’t let Kenobi pass you, not now. Not while your master was dealing with this new threat. You had only heard Maul speak of his former master on two occasions. Both of which had a spark of the emotion you felt through him when he told you to run. If he really was battling the powerful Sith Lord he couldn’t risk Kenobi coming and adding an opponent to the list. The answer to the true question that glinted in your mind would decide the outcome of the night. Did the Jedi fear your Master or his more?

Both you and the Jedi snapped out of your unblinking stare when a flaring pain ripped through the force. He turned to you, “what in the name of the force was that?”

You gulped in worry of your lover’s condition. You couldn’t run you had to help him. His last order was one you could not follow, “his master is here.”

“Dooku is here?” You actually gave yourself a mere second to scoff at his ignorance, “Dooku was not his master. Dooku is the apprentice he took when you debilitated Maul.”

Obi Wan stood there in shock. The council had started to suspect that Dooku was in fact not the Master but the apprentice. If the true Master was here, the man who orchestrated the clone war, and Maul was fighting him in this moment; perhaps they could end everything right now. End the war, stop the never-ending meat grinder and save the lives of the clones he cared for; his commander. As if the both of you thought the same thing at once, you took off running back to the throne room together in a temporary alliance but when you arrived it was empty.

One of the massive windows was shattered and you could hear Maul’s cry pierce through the night. You hesitated, knowing your lover didn’t want you in this fight. To his credit, the Jedi did not hesitate along side you. He leapt through the opening and you watched through wide eyes as he landed between a cloaked figure and Savage, blocking a blow that would have undoubtedly killed the golden Zabrak. As Kenobi engaged with the mysterious figure you searched the courtyard for your lover, the same place the two of you were sparring in this morning. You found him laying crumpled, aftershocks from being electrocuted still caused tremors. You leapt down beside him, worry causing your mental wards to slip. You reached for your beloved Master while Savage and Kenobi battled Sidious. Maul’s eyes widened when they focused on your concerned face.

“You can’t be here. I told you to leave, you have to leave now. You have to be gone already,” he pulled himself to his feet with a groan and pushed you behind him in the same way he had shielded you from Savage in the past, “Go. Now.”

The cloaked figure force pushed his two attackers into the stone wall, knocking them unconscious from the impact. A light trail of blood followed their wake as they slowly slid to the ground in slouched positionings. The hooded old man turned his attention to Maul, no, to you.

“So this is what you have truly been hiding from me my former apprentice. Not this planet, not the little clubs you have taken over in the underworld; this creature.

“You will not harm her,” Maul ignited his saber once again and kept his body covering you. You crouched behind him, both weapons held in a reverse grip one behind you, at the ready to slash forward and the other shielding your Master’s abdomen. Not unlike the wolf that protects her mate’s throat during a stand-off.

Sidious cackled coldly, “I have no intention to do so,” he pointed his eyes back to you while you narrowed yours at him, “you have great power girl and it is being wasted by your current tutor. He is not a Sith. He is a poor excuse of an assassin who should’ve died long ago. Despite his survival he failed. Do you really think you can learn anything from a man who had to have a witch put him back together piece by fleshy piece?”

You did not answer. You allowed him to continue his monolog, stalling for time so you could meld with your Master, minds dancing with one another in a sort of battle meditation. If you were to succeed you had to work as one, both extensions of one another. You weren’t ignorant or arrogant enough to deny the utter weight of the power before you. This wasn’t a battle for you to win, this was a battle for you to survive.

Sidious realized what the two of you were doing and lunged, saber going straight to Maul’s chest. You flicked the wrist of the arm that guarded him and parried his strike allowing Maul to take a step forward to block his Master’s second blade. You spun around him with the weapon you had ready behind your back but were blocked before you could make contact with his throat. Thus began another dance. If you had allowed your mind to wander you would’ve wondered if the sight could have been considered beautiful. A total of five crimson lightsabers swung and clashed in violent sparks leading trails of light in their wake. Ground was given as equally as it was gained, despite the perfect mind meld you were performing with your master and the decades of training between the two of you it seemed like all you could accomplish was to keep up with Sidious.

Just as the Jedi and the other Night Brother were starting to stir Maul’s concentration was interrupted by concern for his brother the effect was immediate and brutal. You weren’t in position to be able to block Sidious’ swing that took Maul’s good leg at the knee nor the lightning that sprang from his finger-tips. You howled in rage, watching your Master crumple to a smoking pile, barely clinging to life. He wouldn’t survive another hit like that. Sidious turned to sneer at you as if he could read your thoughts. You sheathed your blades and flipped over the top of him just as lightning left his fingers again. You dropped your hilts and stretched both arms in front of you absorbing the energy directed to kill the man you loved. A new kind of rage boiled in your soul, clenching your teeth and flexing your legs to keep you grounded you did not halt or block his blast but rather, absorbed it. Allowing it to fuel you. Your hair billowed around you like you stood in the center of a hurricane; your eyes blown with the power that coursed through your veins. You barley noticed how Savage ran to his brother’s aid while Obi Wan sat frozen equally in awe and in horror.

“That’s it my newest young apprentice, let the hate, the fear and the rage fill you up. Harness it, use it.”

“I will never be yours old man,” you growled with the effort to stay awake, “you will never win this.”

“Why my dear, I’ve already won.”

Your power had depleted as soon as he spoke, allowing the shocks to reach you with no defense. You could accomplish a great many things with the force but your well wasn’t nearly as deep as Sidious’. Your vision darkened in the corners and slowly seeped until all you could see was the black and feel yourself falling into bony arms. It was seeing you fall that finally snapped Kenobi out of his trance and Maul awoke just in time to see his master absconding with his apprentice, his love, the woman he was to ask to marry him. His defeated cry rang through the air as did his anguish through the force. He tried to give chase behind the Jedi but you and your captor was long gone.

This was not a battle to win, this was the battle you had to survive and thanks to your sacrifice, for now you, your master, his brother and the Jedi did just that. Survived an encounter with power and death themselves.

Tag list, please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@the-grey-jedi

@gotham-city-uber-driver

@thundersheild

#darth maul x reader #maul x reader #sith apprentice #sith reader #maul x sith reader #swtcw #tcw #star wars #star wars au #the clone wars #tcw au #swtcw au #x reader #fanfiction #darth maul fanfiction #sith warrior

57 notes · View notes

ilovejevsjeans · 3 years

Text

Why there’s far more to Russell than qualifying specialism

The old adage in Formula 1 that the first person you must beat is your teammate may be cliched, yet it rings true. Drivers constantly compare themselves with the man across the garage, knowing the importance of becoming the in-house alpha.

It makes qualifying head-to-head records a valued statistic for many drivers. As pally-pally as Lando Norris was with Carlos Sainz at McLaren, he took some pleasure in pipping the Spaniard on Saturdays across their two seasons together (11-10 in 2019, 8-8 in 2020). Fernando Alonso’s 21-0 whitewash of Stoffel Vandoorne in 2018 meant so much to the two-time F1 world champion that he was still trotting out the statistic 18 months later.

But even Alonso’s qualifying prowess looks workmanlike compared with that of George Russell. In his 46 appearances with Williams , not once has he been outqualified by a teammate. He equalled Alonso’s 21-0 sweep in 2019, when paired with Robert Kubica – a grand prix winner – and leads Nicholas Latifi 25-0 in their season-and-a-bit together. The only F1 teammate to ever outqualify Russell is Valtteri Bottas, who pipped him to pole in their single race together at Mercedes – and we all know who really walked away as the moral winner that weekend…

It has led to the moniker of ‘Mr Saturday’ being attached to Russell by TV types, who then rattle out those statistics like tickets from a slot machine every time he makes it through to Q2. As impressive as his qualifying record is, to reduce his significance to that of a quali-day footnote belies the true power of Britain’s burgeoning F1 star. Last year in Sakhir he offered a glimpse of what he could one day do for Mercedes, jumping in at the last minute and making full use of the tools at his disposal. But to be true world champion material requires a greater contribution: it’s being a leader, rallying those around you, and being a figurehead in the team’s progression in every area.

They are valuable skills which those around Russell at Williams have seen him hone since making his debut in 2019. “He’s just got better and better, and developed almost with every race,” says Dave Robson, Williams’ head of vehicle performance. “Not so much in terms of the driving, that’s always been very strong. But in terms of his understanding of the whole game that we play and everything that we need to get right and we need his help with, it’s just improved endlessly.

“His role within the team is particular, he takes it in his stride in leading that. He’s an excellent asset in all regards.”

The evolution into a leadership role was something Russell was required to embrace quickly. As the depth of the team’s plight became clear in early 2019, there was a contrast in the response of the two drivers: while Kubica – the more experienced, seemingly senior head – subsided into negativity, the junior Russell accepted the state of affairs and got stuck in trying to make a difference.

“2019 was an incredibly difficult baptism of fire,” recalls Robson. “Once he’d got his head around the situation we were in, he was extremely good at being clear about the order of the problems that needed tackling.”

Dealing with a car as devilish as the FW42 helped Russell hone his development skills and feedback, helping the team make big strides in each of the past two seasons and move off the foot of the pecking order in 2021. He even gleaned some helpful slivers of information during his one-race sojourn with Mercedes, feeding back to Williams that it should change its clutch paddle designs after sampling a different steering wheel.

The technical understanding he has forged is “right up there” with the best drivers Robson – once a race engineer to Jenson Button and Felipe Massa – has worked with: “His technical understanding of what the car has to do, how the tyres have to work, and some of the compromises you have to make, is now as good as anyone, I think, in the pitlane.”

It has made Russell not only an important asset to his team, but also to his teammate. Nicholas Latifi joined Williams as a rookie in 2020, and while paired with a younger driver who had just 21 grands prix to his name, he was quickly able to lean on Russell to help his own performances as he got up to speed in F1.

“It’s been hugely beneficial to have a teammate like George,” Latifi says. “Definitely in those opening races at the beginning of the year and throughout the year, [I was] learning from him what I can in the data, seeing what he is asking for from the car, what he thinks the car needs to go quicker, when I was just trying to find my feet and get up to the limit – for sure relying a bit on that information was very helpful.”

Latifi’s confidence may have grown into his second season, but he still finds it a “great help” to have such a strong reference in Russell – even when on the wrong side of the qualifying scoreline. “Part of it just stems from having George as your teammate,” Robson says of their head-to-head record. “He does have an incredible ability to pull something out when it really matters.”

But it is not just Russell’s on-track capabilities that have made him such a powerful and important figure within Williams. The soft skills he has developed off-track, knowing how to best work with the team around him and keep heads up – even through the trickiest of times – has been hugely important to Williams.

“It’s not just his technical input, but also the way he interacts with everyone and his positivity,” says Robson. “Although he can, quite understandably, get frustrated in the heat of the moment, his positivity and general way he is so constructive is very good and exactly what we needed over the last couple of years. He’s played a big role.”

At just 23 years old, Russell has a growing voice and authority that few of his peers boast. It has earned him the respect of the entire F1 grid, evidenced by his appointment as the GPDA’s newest director at the start of this year following Romain Grosjean’s exit from the series, wishing to represent “the younger half of the grid”. Internally at Williams, he has also used his eagerness to speak up to good effect, wishing to make himself heard from day one.

There’s something about him: when he talks, people listen,” says Robson. “It’s important, provided he’s talking about the right thing. Perhaps right at the beginning, he didn’t always get [that] right, but it didn’t take him long to suss that out and understand.”

Robson’s comment is another sign of Russell’s willingness and ability to learn from his mistakes, a trait that fits perfectly with the culture built by Mercedes in its evolution to a title-winning F1 juggernaut.

It was something that he has already had to put into action this year, having brazenly pointed the finger at Bottas for their crash at Imola and then proposed a theory that had tinfoil hats quivering across the F1 Twittersphere. On the flight home after the race with Mercedes head honchos Toto Wolff and James Allison, Russell said he was given some “tough love”, but he acted quickly: he apologised, retracted his comments, and vowed to learn from the saga.

It’s exactly the kind of growth Mercedes wants to see, and will undoubtedly be part of its considerations when it decides on Russell’s future for 2022. He is a free agent, as is Valtteri Bottas, the man he would surely replace should Wolff decide the time is right to cash in on his investment.

But where would that leave Williams? Robson does not mince his words, admitting it would be a “huge loss” for the team both on- and off-track.

“It’s been fantastic working with him, right from when we first put him through the evaluation,” Robson says. “It was obvious George had something about him, some genuinely outstanding talent to drive the car. And it’s been probably frustrating at times, but a great journey to be on with him.

“Of course he’d be a massive loss. I think we’ve all put in a lot of time and effort to help him where he needed a bit of help, to guide him, and it would be a real shame to lose that without really seeing the benefits of it in our car.”

CEO Jost Capito says he would “of course” hand Russell the multi-year deal he craves from 2022, should it be viable. “I think he would fit very well to Williams for our future as well,” Capito says. “If he believes in our future, there might be a chance to keep him.”

It is a future that Russell has helped forge for Williams. Steps such as the sale of the team and investment from Dorilton Capital has secured the team’s immediate future, but Russell’s role must be recognised.

Robson agrees, saying he “can take a good amount of credit” for the team’s progress since hitting rock bottom at the start of 2019.

Williams may have a strong history for backing and cultivating young talent, giving the likes of Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg, Nico Hulkenberg, and Valtteri Bottas their starts. But to be the force that helps lift the team out of its hardest moments, acting as the catalyst in its revival, arguably makes Russell the most important of the bunch – even if he doesn’t stick around to enjoy the fruits of his labour. (X)

#george russell #george

51 notes · View notes

gruviafan-forever · 3 years

Text

GRUVIA WEEK- DAY III

"DISCOVERY"

When Gray had reported the drone issues to Erza and Mr Dreyar, the agency was in fix about who could be going to this extent to know about one of their actor's personal lives.

"Looks like there are still some reporters who believe that photos stuff,"

Makarov said while rubbing his forehead.

"But Master didn't we announce it's just a hoax that should have calmed everyone down" Erza reasoned.

"That's not the case, Erza. It's more like these people are working to uncover Gray's secret and create some scandalous sensations"

Makarov said and tried calling his grandson, Laxus Dreyar who works in the police department.

After informing Laxus, Makarov seemed to have calmed down. That's when Erza informed Gray's decision to unravel his marriage.

"It's high time. However, it's a good decision" Makarov said with a smile.

He knew how hard Gray has worked for these four years to shape his career.

"Let's hope it goes accordingly. Tell Mr Jason to come and meet me. He needs to prepare an article about this and publish it the very next day of the award function on Sorceress Weekly. Also, I need to talk with Gray tomorrow, do inform him, Erza" Makarov informed.

"Yes Master," Erza said with a smile.

NEXT MORNING

Gray got ready for the upcoming event and told her he could come late at night so that they don't wait for him for dinner.

"Yes, Gray-sama. Today I was planning to take Yuki to the park so that she could play with kids of her age. But after what happened yesterday, I decided not to," Juvia said and was adjusting Gray's coat.

Gray began to ponder before he spoke again, "I know it's not right to keep her inside the house and deny her playing freedom. But the situation calls for it, we have to bear for a few more days, Juvia."

He said confidently and kissed her forehead.

It was still 9 AM and Yuki was still fast asleep. So the couple had time for themselves to enjoy their company.

"Sure Gray-sama. You take care. Don't go getting rigid suddenly. Be smiling and welcome your fans warmly. It's because of them you have gained this popularity, remember that Gray-sama."

Juvia lectured her husband like every time any event comes up.

"Yes, madam"

Gray rolled his eyes and smiled at the end. At times, she treated him like a child which he secretly liked.

"Good boy, now get going. I have a lot of chores to do today. If possible, can we go to the supermarket? They're few things which we need to purchase." Juvia consulted him.

Gray agreed and told them to be wary of their surroundings.

"Don't let Yuki wander off on her own. She's such a ball of energy. I know she is a bit difficult to control but look after her. I will take my leave, bye, wifey."

Gray leaned forward to kiss her lips and got one in return.

After bidding bye to her husband, Juvia got freshened up to kick start her day before her daughter woke up.

Soon Gray reached the mentioned location, he was escorted by his manager through the back exit.

"Good morning, Erza"

"Happy morning, Gray. How's Juvia and Yuki doing?"

"Oh, they are doing great. Did Mr Dreyar say anything about the issue?" Gray questioned her.

"Yeah… he wants to meet you after this event. So get ready for that."

Erza informed them and soon they reached the main cabin where every celebrity under the Fairy Tail banner was present.

They greeted each other before Gray went to his friend, Natsu Dragneel and his girlfriend, Lucy Heartfilia.

They bumped their fist and the first thing Natsu asked about was Yuki and Juvia.

Almost every single member of Fairy Tail knew about him so it was not a piece of surprise news for them.

"They are good. Juvia's been calling you two for dinner. Why don't you come by one day? And you too, Erza. Come with your boyfriend."

Gray teased the red-haired woman who had the courtesy to blush on hearing about her love interest.

"Sure, we will come by, once we get to enjoy some free time,"

Natsu said and Lucy nodded in agreement.

That's when Gajeel decided to enter their group. It had been three years since he joined Fairy Tail after his Phantom Band got disbanded.

It was Juvia who proposed Gajeel join this big agency. Gray had spoken about this to Mr Dreyar on his girlfriend's insistence.

Mr Dreyar readily agreed after seeing his performance, ever since, then, Gajeel had been performing for this agency.

His popularity soared after his debut. Gajeel was very much grateful to both Gray and Juvia.

Gajeel had insisted Juvia continue being his lyricist but she denied it as the agency had appointed their best Lyricist, Levy McGarden to aid her best friend.

Juvia knew Gajeel was smitten by her and didn't have the heart to the third wheel behind them.

Moreover, things happened which made her quit the part-time job which she was doing.

"Yo guys, it's been a long since I saw you all in existence. How's everything going on?"

Gajeel greeted and began with the conversation.

Gray greeted him back and soon everyone started to discuss the event and its aftermath.

It had been a month since Gray and Juvia had levelled up their relationship.

Gray's first tv drama shooting has been wrapped up. In a few more episodes, the drama reaches its conclusion.

For now, Gray enjoyed his free time before the shooting for the next drama commences.

The last two days were hectic for both of them as the agency had ordered Gray to move out of that lodging apartment to other high society flats which they had arranged for him.

This move was taken to avoid fans and reporters gathering around his place and prevented them from invading his privacy.

Juvia was sad hearing this news as now she will be left alone in his apartment.

Even her best friend had moved out to give privacy to her and Gray, same was the case with Gray, Natsu had moved out a couple of months as soon as he signed up for his first tv series.

Juvia tried to remain bold and not to tear up but nothing could get past Gray's eyes.

"Juvia"

Gray pouted, she was not paying attention to him and was just staring blankly at his shirt.

To remove her from trance, Gray hugged her from behind which startled her.

"Gray-sama"

"Oi!! What's with the long face? I have never seen you thinking like this. Are you perhaps trying to ditch me?" Gray teased her and kissed her neck.

Juvia turned around and hit his chest, "Don't joke like that. You know how much I love you. Stupid Gray"

Juvia sounded serious especially when he heard her calling him 'Gray'.

She never called him by name without a suffix. That's when he noticed she was crying.

Gray began to fidget and cupped her face, "Hey dear, what happened? Why are you crying?" He asked her worriedly.

Juvia began to wipe her tears off but it never stopped until she told him the reason.

"I feel we will stay apart, Gray-sama, emotionally too. I'm scared that I will be left all alone once again in my life. Of course, I'm being clingy on you but I couldn't help it."

She conveyed her feelings and hugged her lover tightly.

Gray felt happy that she opened up her fear. Even he didn't want to move away from her and from the morning was thinking of asking her to move in with me as his fiancee.

Yes, Gray wanted to marry her and have a lovely life with her. He knew from these 7 months of dating, that she was born for him and he for her.

He was going to propose to her tonight but it looks like the plan needs to be executed at the moment to make her feel assured of their relationship.

"Juvia, I.."

Before Gray could say anything, Juvia fell unconscious in his arms. He tried to wake her up but it was futile.

He carried her to the bedroom and went out to call a doctor from a nearby clinic.

Once the doctor had come and checked her up, Gray felt relief that she was alright and nothing to worry about except...

"WHAT??" Gray shrieked.

"Yes, Mr Fullbuster. Your girlfriend is pregnant. Congratulations, once Juvia wakes up, give her the medicine and go and visit the gynaecologist, they will guide you from there."

The doctor left him after advising him how to take care of a pregnant woman.

Gray couldn't believe what was happening at the moment. He had mixtures of thoughts and emotions.

But predominantly, it was happiness. He is going to be a father, that too really soon. He was going to lead a happy life with his beloved.

Soon, he was going to have a family which he and Juvia were denied from starting, this brought him happy tears and thanked the Gods for such a second chance.

Now all he hoped for was Juvia to feel the same as him.

After 30 minutes, Juvia woke up from her sleep, the first thing she saw was Gray resting beside her.

Juvia smiled at him and ruffled his hairs and that's when she noticed the ring on her finger.

She couldn't believe her eyes and closed her mouth with her palms to avoid shouting.

Slowly, Gray woke up and saw his girlfriend's surprised expression which brought a smile to his face.

"Well, calm down, Juvia"

Hearing his voice, Juvia pulled him into a hug and shouted 'yes'.

Gray chuckled, " I didn't even ask you yet"

Juvia began rubbing her face against his and kissed his forehead,

"I will marry you, Gray-sama."

Gray kissed her lips, "I was actually planning to do it tonight after dinner but here, I'm asking you 'Will you marry me?' "

"1000 times Yes… I'm waiting to live my life with you, Gray-sama…"

"So do I, dear"

Gray kissed her again.

Once their adrenaline has calmed down, Gray slowly broke the news.

"You know what, I found out something. Can you take a guess?"

Gray asked her while squeezing her palms.

Juvia wondered what it could be and accepted her defeat. Now she was curious what this could be.

"We are going to be parents. You are pregnant, Juvia. You are gonna be mama and I'm gonna be papa."

He said with a big smile and kissed her palm.

Then, he told her everything from the moment she fainted to till doctors departure.

Juvia was shedding happy tears and caressing her flat tummy for now. She was going to be a mother, she was going to have her own family now which she longed for since her childhood.

"Are you happy, Gray-sama?"

She wanted to know his feelings.

"My happiness goes beyond this world. I'm happy that we are gonna start be a family together. Juvia, let's get married tomorrow."

Gray shared his piece of mind.

"Thank you for sharing the same feeling as mine, Gray-sama. I love you a lot." Juvia said earnestly.

The very next day, they got their marriage registered in an office. Gray casually informed the recent events of his life to friends and Mr Dreyar.

They were shell shocked yet wished them both happiness enough for their life ahead.

That's when Mr Dreyar had told him to hide this news from the public as Gray was still a budding artist and this could hamper this growth.

Juvia agreed and supported this decision and even convinced Gray to agree with this. It's after sorting out these issues they finally went to their new home.

#gruvia #gruviaweek #gruvia week 2021 #gruvia week

49 notes · View notes

darling-i-read-it · 4 years

Text

Su-Zakana

2x08

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems, insinuations to smut, murder, dead bodies, manipulation

Author’s Note: This took so long and it is super long and I am very tired but I really hope you guys enjoy!!!

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar

Official Episode Summary :Will helps investigate the case of a woman's body found inside of a horse; Alana worries about Will's intentions toward Hannibal; Will and Hannibal rush to protect a witness they believe to be in danger.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll @ericacactus @vlightning95

(not my gif) (this was one of those episodes where i’m like WILL IS PRETTY ALL GIFS OF WILL)

“Where are you off to?” you asked, looking up at Will. You were amazed at how compused he had been since arriving back from jail. You weren’t going to lie, it was attractive. But also semi worrying. Ever since he had sent someone to kill Hannibal he had been this way. Maybe it was just because he was more sure of himself now. Either way, you liked this Will more than the one who seemed to be breaking at every touch.

“Fishing.”

“It’s snowing,” you pointed out.

“Ice fishing.”

“Are you going alone? Should I come?”

“No, I’m going with Jack.” You scoffed and Will smiled. It was nice to see some things would never change and your distaste for Jack Crawford was one of those things.

“Alright, have fun then. Be safe!”

“I’m a good fisher Y/N,” Will promised. You shrugged.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t tell you to be safe.”

You sat at Hannibal’s dinner table. It was odd to be back here. Sitting beside Will, across from Jack, near Hannibal. It reminded you of the times before your boyfriend was wrongly put in jail but then again, mostly everything did these days.

Hannibal placed the fish down on the table and you were happy to see the pieces of it and know Will had caught it.

“Truite saumonee au bleau with vegetables and broth, served with hollandaise sauce on the side. Beautiful fish Will,” Hannibal started to dish up each plate and place them in front of everyone. Will gave a strained smile.

“It was my turn to provide the meat,” he quipped and you chuckled a bit at that. Jack gave you a look but you couldn’t care less what he thought.

‘More flavorful and firm than farmed specimens. I find the trout to be a very Nietzsche-an fish. Trials of hsi wild existence find their way into the flavor of the flesh.” Hannibal sat down. “I hope ‘providing the meat’ doesn’t mean you still harbor doubts about what I serve at my table.”

“No doubts, Dr. Lecter. Only the wounds ew dealt to each other before we got to the truth,” Jack explained.

“Speak for yourself Jack,” you said, cutting harshly into the fish on your plate. Hannibal had to admit how distinguished you and Will looked beside each other once more. Like all was right in the world.

“Which is why we need to move past apologies and forgiveness. Chilton has many victims besides the dead,” Hannibal countered. “We will absorb this experience and it will change us. We are all Nietzsche-ian fish in that regard.”

“Makes us tastier,” Will said and you couldn’t help but smile. Funnier then he had been before. Hannibal and you shared a secret glance.

“None of our actions were personal,” Jack said.

“I tried to have Hannibal killed. Isn’t personal?” Will inquired. You wanted to tell him that he was on fire tonight but bit your tongue.

“No because you did not succeed,” you said, pointing a fork at Hannibal. “Clearly.”

“You thought I was a killer,” Hannibal said.

“I don’t blame Miriam Lass for shooting Frederick Chilton. I wanted to kill him myself.” Jack looked away from the three of you. The situation itself was so odd to him. He didn’t understand where you stood with the boys and how the boys stood with themselves.

“Greatest crime now would be to walk away from what we’ve shared and suffered. In many ways, we need each other. We’re the only ones who will know what this feels like,” Hannibal said simply. Will took a bite of the dish.

“This fish is delicious.”

You snuck a smile

Jack got up and left before you and Will. You glanced out the window behind where Hannibal usually sat. It was snowing steadily. You heard the door shut, Jack had been gone. You turned back, your hair falling on your back. Will and Hannibal walked inside the dining room.

“It’s snowing,” you whispered. They both smiled but the smile was different. Will smiled at you because he had seen this bit of you. The part excited by the snow. He smiled at a piece of you he knew. Hannibal smiled because he felt like you never showed this piece of you.

“Looks like it,” Will said. “We should go soon.” You nodded and moved away from the windows.

“Yes we should. It’s getting late.”

“Actually I was hoping to run something by the two of you” Hannibal said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?” Will asked, back stiffening.

“If you are pursuing working with Jack perhaps,” Hannibal said which made you narrow your eyes. You hadn’t talked with Will about that yet. “I was hoping to have Y/N come with us.”

Will looked at Hannibal hard. He tried to figure out this angle. To an untrained eye it was likely because Hannibal wanted to spend time with you. To Will, he wondered if you coming along was to keep both of them in check. Perhaps it was something entirely different.

“I would love to. Especially if Will decides too.” Hannibal nodded.

“Then it’s settled.”

In the car you looked over at Will as he drove back to your home. The snow was coming harder but you could only tell by the headlights.

“Are you really going to go back to working with Jack?”

“I don’t know.” You looked out the window, not being able to look at him.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” Will nodded.

“I know you don’t.” He glanced at you. “You’ve always been against it. But I can handle it now. It might even help me.”

“But if it breaks you…” you trailed off.

“It won’t.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. You nodded.

You sat at your desk, fiddling with your pen when the appointment came in. Margot Verger. She was a pretty thing, someone you could probably be friends with. She approached you with a sense of cool confidence.

“Verger?” You nodded.

“Right on time. He’ll come when he’s ready,” you promised. She nodded and sat at one of the chairs. You watched her for just a moment before she caught you. What an interesting lady.

Alana stood across from you. She had come to Hannibal's office to see you while Margot was in.

“Can I help you Miss. Bloom?” She had a stiff back and you could tell whatever she wanted to talk about was not something you wanted to hear about. You had been distant from her since Will tried to kill Hannibal.

“I’ve been talking with Hannibal,” she said simply and the way she said it made you wonder what the talking insured. “I want to know how Will is.” She paused and you didn’t answer her, looking up at her from your desk chair. “I want to know if he’ll hurt Hannibal again.”

You paused a second longer as you studied her.

“Are you and Hannibal...sleeping together?” you asked, laughing a bit. She looked straight at you. You felt semi betrayed. You couldn’t tell by who.

“Is he safe?”

“I don’t know Alana.” Your voice was cold, calculated. “Is he?”

The door opened and Hannibal stepped out. He raised an eyebrow at the two of you. You hadn’t slept together but you thought there was something there, something unspoken. Something with Will, something different. You must have been wrong.

“Hello Alana,” Hannibal said. You stood up.

“I have to go home,” you said simply. Hannibal shook his head.

“I was hoping to speak with you alone. Can you excuse us?” Alana then seemed semi betrayed by the both of you. Served her right. You nodded and grabbed your jacket, showing him that you weren’t going to be staying long. You walked into the office and Hannibal shut the door right in Alana's face.

You stepped in further and walked to your regular seat on his desk. You leaned against it, following him as he walked in.

“Yes?” you asked, a touch of annoyance in your voice. You knew it was unfounded but you ignored it for the moment.

“Do you know why Will tried to kill me?” Hannibal asked. A tough memory for both of you but you ignored the emotions.

“Because he thinks you're the Ripper,” you stated dumbly. Hannibal walked over to you and leaned against the desk beside you. His hand landed on yours but neither of you addressed it.

“It wasn’t to avenge Beverly Katz’s death. It was to prevent yours. He was protecting you. The only way he felt he had left in him.” You thought about this a moment. You looked down at the floor and nodded.

“I’m afraid he’s opened a door in himself that won't’ close again,” you muttered and looked over at Hannibal. “And knowing I had a hand in opening it makes my stomach churn.” Hannibal smiled weakly.

“I don’t believe you were truly the one at fault.”

You shared a long look and then you got up.

“I hope Alana has fun tonight,” you said slowly. “I know I will,” you told him as you opened the door to the office.

Despite the fact that you were only able to see Hannibals face for a moment you knew that your comment had hurt him. You were beginning to understand that Hannibal didn’t want to be Alanas. He wanted to be Wills. He wanted to be yours. He wanted to be part of the two of you and telling him, so blatantly, that he wasn’t was a power move.

You passed Alana and were no longer bitter.

She was being used.

You stood at the stables beside Jack. Will was inside one of the doors, doing his thing. You and Jack were alone outside.

“I’m annoyed that he’s here,” you said. “For the record.” Jack nodded.

“I’m annoyed you’re here. I suppose no one got what they wanted.” You looked over at Jack. How oblivious that man was.

Will stepped out.

“It’s a coffin birth. Decomposition builds up gasses within and putrefied the body and pushes the dead fetus out of its mother’s corpse. It’s really more of a prolapse than a birth,” he explained.

“Not to whoever did this,” Jack said.

“Whoever did this knew the horse. Knew she was dying because her foal was born dead. Knew Sarah Craber. He’s familiar with the stables. He knew when he wouldn’t get caught. He works here or maybe used to. He has medical knowledge of animals, but isn’t a veterinarian. He considers himself a healer.”

“How is he healing?” Jack asked.

“Sarah Craber was reborn. And a mother and her child are finally on the same side of life. This wasn’t a murder.” Will looked over at the two of you and away from the corpse. “This was grief.”

“Peter Bernardone?” Jack called. You stepped inside a small place, filled with metal cages containing small wild animals. Will walked closely beside you. The fact that you were there did leave him with a certain level of comfort. He was surprised how that made him feel.

A wild looking man was in the house, scrambling around. He wouldn't focus on you or Jack or Will. Instead he focused on the animals and the things around him.

“You don't seem curious who we are,” Jack pointed out.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Agent Jack Crawford. FBI. This is Will and Y/N Graham. We’d like to ask you about someone you might have had contact with when you worked at Blackbriar Stables. Sarah Craber. Her body was found recently in very unusual circumstances,” Jack explained.

“I heard.”

“There was a bird in her chest. Did you hear about that?” Will questioned.

“Is the bird alive?” Peter asked. Will looked taken aback and curious.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Who’s taking care of it?” Peter asked.

“How well did you know Sarah Craber?” Jack asked and you thought that was rather rude.

“I didn’t know her.” He was so skittish, his mind in so many different places.

“Would you mind looking at a photograph for me?” Peter shook his head and then turned around, murmuring something to his animals.

“I know who she is, I just didn’t know her.”

“Just to be sure,” Jack said. He handed Peter the photo. Will watched him closely, as did you. Peter glanced wildly around and when he did look at the picture it was very briefly.

“Peter, you had a head injury when you worked at the stables,” you said gently. Jack looked annoyed that you were speaking.

“I was kicked by a horse,” Peter explained.

“It’s an atypical motor response. Peter’s ability to look and touch can only happen as separate events,” you explained a bit.

“Aggravated by stress, isn’t it?” Will asked. He nodded, surprised the two of you had gotten it so on the nose.

“Are you feeling stressed?” Jack asked.

“I’m worried about the bird,” Peter explained.

“A woman is dead, Mr. Bernardoen. And you’re worried about a bird,” Jack said bluntly.

“I’m sad for her, I’m sad for the horse. But I can’t help them. I can help the bird.”

Therapy for Will was still hard for you. You didn’t like it. You didn't’ like not knowing what was going on in the room beside you, if Will was being hurt, if Hannibal was being hurt. You were usually told about it after but sometimes things were left out or forgotten.

Will sat on your desk and you looked at him.

“If I wasn’t doing this as an official session then I would let you come in,” he said gently.

‘I don't’ want to invade your privacy like that,” you explained. “I just wish I knew he wasn’t hurting you.”

“Do you think he’s going to hurt me?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I think you might hurt him.”

“Are you worried about that?” Will asked. You shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

Hannibal opened the door.

After Will talked to Peter some more alone he came up to you. He was stiff, like something was bothering him.

“I’m getting Alana to talk to the social service man assigned to Peter,” Will stated. You nodded.

“I’m sure that’ll help something.” You paused. “Why?”

“Because someone wronged that man as much as I was wronged,” Will explained, voice barely audible. “I want to see him held accountable.” You nodded. “I want you there while Alana does it. Hannibal and Jack will be there too but I want you there.”

You couldn’t tell if he wanted you there to witness it or to be a crutch. Either way you nodded.

“Anything you want.”

You sat in the back seat, Hannibal driving and Will in the passenger seat. The night was dark as you drove to the stables.

“You look like a man who has suffered an irrevocable loss,” Hannibal pointed out.

“I’m trying to prevent one,” Will explained.

“Do you think if you save Peter Bernardone, you can save yourself?” Hannibal asked.

“Save myself from who, Dr. Lecter?” Will asked.

“From who you perceive me to be.”

“I’m afraid I need to be saved from who you perceive me to be. And for the record, I’m not the only one who sees you that way,” Will said.

“Ah yes. Because you share in his beliefs don’t you Y/N?” Hannibal asked, looking in the rearview mirror at your face.

“Yes I do. Well truthfully I dont’ think Will’s ever been wrong about anything so I have to believe him. It’s my code,” you said simply.

“Even with all you know me to be?” Hannibal asked. He was referring to the nights you spent together.

“After all Alana Bloom and I know you to be,” you quipped. Hannibal smiled a bit. He deserved that one.

“Everytime you think about it, it stings, doesn't it? Wondering if I could be right about Will.” He was talking to both of you at this point. “Many troublesome behaviors strike when we are uncertain of ourselves. Peter Bernardone lies in the same darkness that holds you Will.” Will looked straight ahead.

“I’m alone in that darkness,” Will said.

“You’re not alone, Will. I’m standing beside you. Y/N stands closer,” Hannibal said and you nodded.

“He has you there.”

Will walked beside you and Hannibal into the stables where Peter waited. You were the first to see him as you were the first in the stables piece where he was. You were all silent however until Will spoke.

“Peter...is your social worker inside that horse?” Peter nodded. You almost scoffed at the absurdity of the question.

“We are hardwired to see human beings everywhere. Every animal. Every life. We’re all human,” Peter explained but he looked disheveled, bad.

“Every God is personified,” Hannibal stated simply.

“He couldn’t see that. He forfeited his humanity. I forfeited mine. I used to have a horrible fear of hurting anything. He helped me get over that. Feels so abnormal.”

“An abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behavior,” you whispered.

“He deserves to die,” Peter said.

“But he didn’t deserve to kill him,” Will stated. You felt his heart then. You wondered perhaps if Will could feel your emotions how easily you could feel his. “I want you to come with me, Peter.”

Peter stood and allowed Will to lead him away. You gave Will and look, a look of worry. Will gave you a look of comfort back. He was in control. He was okay. You stayed with Hannibal.

“Happy I suggested you tag along?” Hannibal questioned. You both walked over to the sheep that were there and started to pet them a bit.

“Actually, yes. I want to see what Will goes through.”

“Always his savior.” You glanced at Hannibal.

“Is Alana yours?” He chuckled but thought about it for a moment.

“Curiously enough I think you might also be my savior as well. In a way, differently than Will.” You were satisfied with that answer and you had to be because the horse started to move. The stitches ripped open and the social worker you had seen talk to Alana stepped out.

“Mr. Ingram,” Hannibal said, stepping away from the sheep. Ingrahm stood up. “Might want to crawl back in there, if you know what’s good for you.” You scoffed and nodded. Hannibal stepped aside and Will held up his gun to the man. You wanted to swat it away from him. For a moment you recognized the ease he held while he pointed the gun, the almost attractiveness he held.

“Officer, I’m the victim here,” Ingram said. He got on his knees and Will pointed the gun at his head.

“I’m not an officer. I’m a friend of Peter’s.” You walked up to Will but didn’t touch him. You and Hannibal shared a look.

“Peter’s confused.”

You had been raising a hand before Ingram said then. You dropped it just as quickly as you had raised that. You had heard those words spoken to you about Will countless times. All three of you realized that.

“I’m not,” Will said sternly. “Pick up the hammer.”

“Will,” Hannibal said.

“Pick it up.”

“It won't’ feel the same, Will. it won’t feel like killing me,” Hannibal said.

“It doesn’t have to. I know what it will feel like. It’ll feel good,” Will said. You watched his face. A focus came over him that you barely recognized.

“You did the best anyone could do for Peter, but don't do this for him. Not for Mr. Ingram’s victims or their many friends and relatives who would love to see him dead. If you’re going to do this Will…” he paused, “You have to do it for yourself.”

“Please don’t,” Ingram whispered.

“Shut up,” you muttered.

“This is not the reckoning you promised yourself, Will.”

Will was so close to pulling the trigger. You could see his finger shaking. The trigger clicked but it didn’t hit. Hannibal took the gun swiftly from Will’s grasp and put his hand on the back of Will’s head.

“With all my knowledge and intrusion, I could never entirely predict you. I can feed the caterpillar, whisper through the chrysalis, but what hatches follows its own nature and is beyond me,” Hannibal whispered. He let your boyfriend go and you walked over, grabbing Will’s arms as he stumbled into your embrace. Hannibal watched the two of you, Will still shaking from adrenaline.

He watched as you brought a hand up and grabbed Hannibal, hugging him too.

Finally you pulled away from both of them and looked at the social worker.

“What do we do with this guy now?”

2x09

#hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #will graham x reader #will graham imagine #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal imagines

246 notes · View notes

alternateafterthought · 4 years

Text

Arcane - Part 10

Ø Meaning: Secret, Mysterious, Understood only by few. MAGIC

Ø Pairing: Panther Hybrid Min Yoongi x Reader

Ø Summary: Some secrets are kept for the good of people. Some secrets are kept for abuse or power. Yoongi had been a victim of abuse and power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else use secrets for that purpose. So, when Y/N comes into his life with secrets, he doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole again. He doesn’t want to give all his trust to someone who will abuse their power over him. But maybe Y/N’s secrets are a good thing.

Ø Genre: Hybrid!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Ø Warnings: There is nothing too graphic but there is a small trigger at the end of this part. It will be a little more intense in the next part but this is a build up to what could happen in the next part.

Ø Word Count: 1746

Ø A/N: Hey guys… here is the next part of my Min Yoongi fic!! It’s been a while since I updated last... sorry for taking so long to constantly update, but thank you to everyone who is still keeping up and reading Arcane!! So, I really hope you guys love and support this fic like you did with GOLDEN TIME!! If you want to be added to a tag list, message me or leave a comment or ask!! I would love and appreciate your feedback!! Thank you so much

PREV / NEXT

It was a bad idea.

Oh boy, was it a bad idea.

Y/N had walked in at the opportune moment. A saving grace for Yoongi in that moment that she had intervened. In saying that, Yoongi had no clue how Y/N could have left him in that moment, how a moment like this could happen.

A moment like this when he thought he was somewhere safe.

He trusted Y/N. With every fiber of his being, Yoongi truly trusted Y/N but there was just some things that was too much. And for the first time since meeting Y/N, Yoongi couldn’t find it in himself to want to be anywhere near Y/N.

It started as a good day. Yoongi had woken up in time to see Y/N off to work. As she showered and dressed for work, Yoongi made her breakfast and packed her a lunch. Though Y/N didn’t realize he had packed her a lunch until it was lunch time and she was looking through her bags and saw the lunch box. The note he left with it was simple, very Yoongi.

Just eat it. It’s not a big deal.

Yoongi.

Y/N had sent him a quick “thank you” text before digging in and eating what was now one of her favourite dishes. She needed that, with everything she was going through in the pristine white walls, she needed something delicious. Even with an almost promising outlook on her situation, she knew she had Yoongi waiting for her, always so welcoming and… handsome.

It was also thankfully Friday, even though it was the 3rd Friday of the month, meaning she was confined to a single chair in a hospital. Y/N had finished for the day and went to meet her best friend, Chae Hye-Jin. The girls hugged and giggled and soon was walking, arm in arm, with good food back to Y/N’s house.

“So, this hybrid of yours… just how handsome is he?” Hye-Jin asked, pulling Y/N closer.

“Yoongi is…” Y/N thought about it, thinking about how his eyes looked dark at first but soon, with time and care, turned soft and bright. How his hands were always so steady, they were a safe place that Y/N could picture building a life with.

“Yoongi is what?” Hye-Jin smirked.

Y/N just shrugged; “Yoongi.”

“If I didn’t know any better, which we both know I do,” Hye-Jin laughed a little. “I’d say you liked this hybrid.”

“He makes me feel safe. Even you know I don’t have that very often.”

“Well if he’s handsome, you should get more then feeling safe from your hybrid.” The laugh from Hye-Jin seemed more disturbing, catching Y/N almost off guard. “Or let me appreciate how handsome he is.”

It was something normal, for people who weren’t exactly lucky when it came to the people they associated with. It was something normal to overlook questionable things they did, so they wouldn’t be as lonely as they try to convince themselves. And Y/N was lonely, after everything in her life, she was somewhat okay with more then questionable things her friends did.

Even if she deserved better.

“It’s not like that.” Y/N weakly contributed before they were in front of her small house.

Looking towards her house, Y/N caught sight of her curtains moving in the living room, already knowing Yoongi would quickly act like he wasn’t looking. She already knew, as they walked up the couple of steps of her porch, that Yoongi would be sitting on the couch acting as if he had been there the whole time. He might be pretending to be asleep, or reading a book or “watching” tv, and yet they both knew the truth he was waiting for Y/N to come home.

“Why did we have to walk again today?” Hye-Jin laughed a little as Y/N unlocked the door to her home.

“I can’t drive after an appointment, remember?” Y/N laughed; opening the door wider to allow Hye-Jin and herself into the warm home. “And I wasn’t about to have my parents drive me. I’d rather walk.”

Hye-Jin knew all about the troubles Y/N had with her family. When they had first meet, Hye-Jin thought her parents were amazing, but after knowing Y/N for 3 years, her opinions had changed on that. And rightfully so, with how her parents treat her, as if she were the worst thing to walk into their daughters life. When in reality, Hye-Jin was their daughters one and only friend in this world.

“Yoongi?” Y/N called into the house, closing the door firmly. “I’m home.”

Y/N hung her bag and coat as the hybrid in question walked into sight from the kitchen. He smiled at Y/N before his sharp eyes took in the other person standing next to Y/N.

She was a little shorter than Y/N, and undeniably beautiful. Her long hair, her charming smile, and the fact that Yoongi could tell she was trying to make herself seem smaller, almost trying to make herself seem defenceless. There was something wrong with her though. Yoongi couldn’t exactly explain it, but there was something about her that had his predator side on high alert. There was undoubtably a threat to his home, a threat to Y/N, he just had to wait for the threat to truly awaken.

“Yoongi, this is my friend, Hye-Jin.” Y/N moved to stand next to him, taking his hand to move him closer towards her. “Hye-Jin, this is Yoongi.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Yoongi.” Hye-Jin offered Yoongi her hand to shake, her voice trying for light and airy which only caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand up.

But this was Y/N’s friend, he had to at least act polite; “Nice to meet you.”

Yoongi shook her hand for all of a second, then moving his hand away, but she was quick to tighten her hold on his hand. Yoongi’s eyes widen for a moment before trying a little hard to get his hand back. Instead the woman stepped forward, into Yoongi’s space with a dark smile.

“You really are a handsome little guy, aren’t you?” Hye-Jin used her other hand to move up to squeeze his bicep.

Y/N could feel just how uncomfortable Yoongi was, opting to move herself between Yoongi and Hye-Jin. With a smile, and Yoongi behind her, Y/N looked back to Hye-Jin, whose eyes were still on Yoongi.

“Come on, you guys can get to know each other while we eat.” Y/N finally got her attention, moving them both towards the kitchen.

Yoongi took the food from Y/N’s hands, moving ahead of Hye-Jin and Y/N as the two girls lingered for a moment to talk.

“He really is cute.” Hye-Jin squealed. “You totally picked the right one. Imagine the babies he’d father.”

Y/N noticed how Yoongi’s tail wrapped around his own waist, his ears flickering; “If he ends up mating with someone and having children, I’m sure we’ll be there to see.”

“I’m talking about the babies he’d have with me.” Hye-Jin seemed to stage-whisper, like she was making sure Yoongi heard. “Hybrids can’t control themselves through heat. Just call me and I’ll totally help.”

Y/N couldn’t really believe what it was she was hearing. Instead she just simply laughed and moved to her seat sitting down next to where Yoongi would sit. Smiling up at Yoongi, he sat down next to her, squeezing her hand quickly before starting to serve her food.

Yoongi could only hope that this meal would be over quickly, that he could leave the tension. That he could run away from the strained situation, hopefully being able to protect Y/N as he did.

After the first hour, Yoongi thought it was time for Hye-Jin to leave, or for him to escape to his room. Then another hour passed, and another and another and it was now 2am and both girls sat in the living room gossiping about anything and everything they could think of. Yoongi couldn’t leave without feeling uneasy so he stayed and kept an eye on Y/N, catching Hye-Jin inching closer towards him.

At first Yoongi thought that maybe Y/N could see what her friend was doing, could see that she wasn’t someone to trust. But every time he went to move towards Y/N, that he thought Y/N was going to move towards him, she wouldn’t. Or he’d see her move away from her, almost like she was offering him up to Hye-Jin who was moving towards him.

He almost would feel completely betrayed by Y/N, at least if maybe she was doing it on purpose. But even Yoongi could see that Y/N was drunk, even if her friend was only pretending to be.

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed, Y/N.” Hye-Jin practically sang, eyes on Y/N but her smile was obviously for Yoongi. “You look really tired.”

“Nah, I still have to make my bed for you.” Y/N stood, stretching her limbs. “You can stay in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You can’t sleep on the couch.” Yoongi’s voice caught Y/N’s. “You can have my bed for the night. I’ll stay on the couch.”

“Yoongi?” Y/N tried to protest.

“I’ll quickly go change. I’ll make sure everything is clean.” Yoongi stood, hands on Y/N’s waist as he moved past Y/N.

“Okay, I’ll get you something to wear to bed.” Y/N helped Hye-Jin to stand, both of them walking to Y/N’s room, she was quick to get her the normal sleep clothing she wore when she stayed. “You know where the bathroom is.”

Hye-Jin took the clothes with a smile before leaving for the bathroom as Y/N got into her own pyjamas. The comfy pink silk on her body making it easier to breath before she quickly went threw her night routine. Finally moving to the bathroom to brush her teeth, she noticed that neither Yoongi nor Hye-Jin was anywhere to be seen.

Concerned, Y/N held onto her toothbrush as she walked down the hall to Yoongi’s room. The door was opened slightly, and Y/N could only see so much. But what she did see was by far anyone’s worst nightmares.

No man nor woman should ever be put in that position.

“What the fuck?” Y/N’s voice ran through the room, causing both Yoongi and Hye-Jin to look at her.

Even though both stared at her, both gave a different reaction. One was annoyed that Y/N had walked in on them. The other was terrified. Pleading for help.

PREV / NEXT

Tag List

185 notes · View notes