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hanafubukki · 3 months

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Happy Birthday Malleus Draconia 💚💕

Summary: You kidnap Malleus Draconia.

Sebek knew it would be a tiring day when he saw a letter placed on his wardrobe table.

It had decorative little crocodiles and squirrels all over with his name written in your writing.

He could already feel a headache incoming.

He’ll wonder how you snuck into his room to place said letter later, he was more interested in the message you had to say.

“Dear Knight,

Your Lord has been kidnapped. He is mine for the day.

Mwah~

YN”

Sebek rushed out of his room, running to the Diasomnia waiting room where his lord would sit and enjoy tea at this time.

…only to be met with a giggling Lilia and a napping Silver.

“YN!”

“Did you have to tease Sebek?”

“It’s all in good fun Tsunotaro.”

“I see.”

While Malleus ponders your answer, you plopped down right next to him on the couch.

“What does this…kidnapping entail?”

You could tell Malleus was humoring you. He found this whole situation funny and yet intriguing.

“For you? Just sit there look pretty and enjoy all the snacks, games, and movies I have.”

Malleus laughed lowly, “YN, I do have duties to fulfill. I can’t just sit here.”

You shrugged, “One day without work won’t bring down your dorm. Besides, all work and no play make dragons go cranky.”

Malleus laughed freely and you joined him this time, “Is that so? Then I shall join in this activity with you.”

You laid the nearby comforter over you and Malleus before starting your T.V.

It would be a good day; you would make sure of it.

“This warrior does not speak?”

“Kind of. He talks he’s just not voice acted, but he does make sounds when you attack with him.”

“Interesting. A silent and courageous warrior who will save his kingdom and the princess.”

“Reminds you of someone?”

“This Link reminds me of Silver. They share many similar qualities.”

You joked, “Are you the princess then?”

“I am a prince, am I not?” Malleus replied, before softly continuing, “and Silver has saved me, from myself.”

You bumped your shoulder with his, “That’s love for you.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That crocodile and that pirate…”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“Yes, especially as Kingscholar dressed as one during Halloween.”

“Does the crocodile remind you of Sebek?”

The glint in Malleus' eyes answered your question.

You can only imagine Sebek's reaction if he knew, “Well with the way Sebek is always barking at Leona, I can't blame you for thinking it.”

Ah, you were going to hold this over Sebek's head forever.

“Those fairies should have never been given the child.”

“Yeah…”

“They haven’t properly fed her, even Lilia knew to feed a baby!”

“Yeah.”

“She almost fell off the cliff!”

“I know. They suck.”

You tugged at Malleus’ hair, “At least she had someone to take care of her, two of them in fact.”

Malleus calmed down knowing exactly to whom you referred, “Yes, those days were filled with laughter and warmth even amidst the chaos. How…nostalgic.”

Malleus leaned towards you; a mischievous glint in his eyes, it reminded you of a certain pink-streaked fae, “Want to hear an embarrassing story grandmother told me about Lilia?”

“Yes! I’m all ears!”

You watched as Tsunotaro enjoyed Toothless and Hiccup's adventures.

You knew he would like this series.

You wondered how Sam had the trilogy.

…you would question him thoroughly later.

You were content to watch Tsunotaro be happy.

His family is never far from his thoughts as he is never far from theirs.

You felt happy to be part of his family.

“YN, is there a reason to why we are making cupcakes this late at night?”

He didn’t know.

You hid your smile as you put the tray of goodies into the oven.

Malleus must have enjoyed his day if he forgot why tonight would be special.

“Anytime is a good time for cupcakes, just like how you can have ice cream even during winter.”

“I thought it was easier for human’s teeth to decay due to late night sugary treats?”

“We’ll be fine! Just make sure to brush your teeth and don’t tell Trey -senpai.”

You went over to the nearby drawer. The confetti poppers were there as planned, just a few more minutes before the time came, so you snuck them into your pocket discreetly.

“Let’s go play more Zelda.”

You and Malleus moved towards the lounge; you eyed the hallway clock on the way.

Less than a minute.

You took out the poppers from your pocket.

“Malleus?”

“Yes?”

You pulled the poppers out just as he entered the ramshackle lounge.

3…2…1

“Happy Birthday (Lord) Malleus!”

Malleus was shocked as confetti rained on him from all sides.

Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and you surrounded him as the day turned over.

His surprised face broke into a wide smile before an unrestrained joyous laughter filled the lounge.

What a beautiful start to today.

The day Malleus Draconia was born.

A day filled with endless love.

Happy Birthday Malleus.

Resounded affectionately in all the hearts of everyone present.

May you always be filled with happiness and love.

Bonus:

Silver came to you as you watch Lilia bear hug Malleus. It was funny how someone so petite wrapped all four limbs on someone so tall.

Silver hesitated.

You knew.

“He baked a cake, didn’t he?”

Silver sighed, “Yes. We tried to stop him.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“It’s okay. Toxic waste it might be, but it is something Lilia made with him in mind. Malleus will love it nonetheless.”

You bumped shoulders with Silver, whispering, “We made cupcakes.”

Silver’s grateful smile had you hugging him.

No one will get food poisoning today, not on your watch.

You hoped.

☺️🌺🌸💚

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bluexiao · 6 months

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#monsieur neuvillette’s relationship headcanons

NOTES. finally a work after months. i missed this, tbh. but hey, here’s my new husband for you. might also have a part 2 of this i feel like i haven’t written everything yet

WARNING. real identity spoilers (nothing too explicit from the current archon quest i haven’t even done it yet oops)

NEUVILLETTE

(Before)

Before the relationship began, it took a long while for him to truly process what he had been feeling towards you—to be frank, he even thought he was getting sick (which was impossible. He never got sick.), though that thought comes to an end the moment he realizes that the effects only happen when he is around you. Only you.

He had heard of love before. Had seen love. Had read about love. Not just the platonic or familial ones, but also romance and more. And yet, he does not understand them, simply because he considers them as something someone like him would not eventually feel.

And yet, it all changed when he first saw you. Curiosity turns to admiration, and admiration turns to anxiety—which is never good; the sweating on his hands and the back of his neck, and the pressure on his chest whenever your presence comes.

He was only reminded of the term romance when he consulted Sigewinne about it.

“Does it only happen around a certain person, Monsieur?” “Monsieur, I think you are simply in love,” she says. “Humans do tend to have the same symptoms but it does not necessarily mean you are sick. It appears to me that you feel the same as well. Does their presence give you happiness?”

He did not even need to ponder over his answer. What he does ponder over is how he should deal with it. The evidence is overwhelming, and there is only one verdict. And yet, where does this lead to?

Contrary to popular belief, he will confess as soon as he is sure of his feelings. He is an honest and honorable man. He would confess his feelings if he could, but it did take some time knowing how busy his schedule was.

The only thing that probably was able to push him to go through was the Melusines. It took them weeks to have him clear his schedule up for a nice little dinner date that they had planned and suggested to the Monsieur.

“Recently, I have come to realize that I have developed a romantic interest with you, Y/n.”

“I do not intend to put pressure on you. I shall accept whatever judgment you make. I do not wish for you to change how you treat me in any way.”

“If you may… I can only ask to indulge in this meal with you for tonight. Your company eases me greatly.”

Brutally honest. It may even drive you crazy how this all seems so easy on him.

But in reality, his palms were sweating underneath his gloves and the slightly cool sensation of the utensils as he blurts out his intentions for setting up such an occasion. His heart was pounding but he could not process whether this was about how you looked especially good tonight or his nervousness with finally confessing his feelings for you.

Or maybe both. Either way, all evidence of such leads to only one thing—you.

Bonus; I do think he’ll reveal who he is first before he gets into a relationship with you but that really depends on how observant you are.

(During)

It was a surprise to him, at the very least, how he had managed to keep you as his lover despite what he lacks. He knew how he was not well-versed with “feelings” per se (just in his mind), but you, the angel that you’ve always been, chose to be with him.

The sudden change did not occur to him much, actually. But he did notice how much his mind lingers to you more often than not, and how he will end up recalling how you are now his one and only lover.

It takes time for him to adjust, but it all started with frequent conversations (much more than before), then sending flowers to your place every other day (constantly), though most of the time they’re delivered by someone else, knowing how busy he is as the Chief Justice.

Or when he started to first brush his gloved fingers to yours.

When he does something, it will be constant. (Maybe this also comes from being responsible and disciplined as shown by being the Chief Justice). All the things that he did before, he still does them now—unless you’ve told him no, of course.

He is definitely a man of his honor!!

And would always ask for your permission first before he touches your hand, or holds them, or hugs you, or kisses you.

He does like pampering and showering you with “offerings” though.

Stuff like buying your favorite flowers or trinkets once or twice a week, making sure you have enough supply of the best water out there. And even with how he always has an umbrella or parasol for you (ones he got ever since you got together; one in his office, one that’s foldable for him to carry under his coat, and one he gave to you for every time you leave the house.

Through the course of the relationship, he learned about the beauty of life, which is how he sometimes brings you flowers despite its short life. However, he still secretly prefers giving you trinkets for your hoard of gifts from him, mostly because it symbolizes his everlasting love for you. (He’s very romantic like that, even if he does not know he is)

He will also introduce every single Melusine in Fontaine. At first, it may surprise you how he knows all of their names, but it will surprise you even more the moment you realize you could do the same. If you do, he’ll love you even more (which he thought was impossible at first as he knew he already loves you very much).

The Melusines will treat you as their other parent the moment it is known amongst all of them that you’re his lover. Sigewinne, for one, would always give you a personalized gift. She would also always send you letters to ask how you are and probably be quite excited whenever you accept an invitation for a cup of tea.

Monsieur Neuvillete is not jealous, but he is possessive and territorial. It’s a dragon instinct, forgive him.

It also comes with being protective. Though he’s not feral, he would make sure to always shield you away from any harm, or anything that might take you away.

One time, he had to deal with a bunch of… shameless individuals who had tried to make a move on you, and though he has great trust on you, he cannot help but have the same self-deprecating voices in the back of his mind.

Though instinctively, he finds himself buying you trinkets or flowers again.

“Hm? You just gave me one earlier, didn’t you?” You look up with a confused look but still hold that smile that stirs butterflies in his chest.

He nodded. “The flowers reminded me of you, mon amour. I could not help but feel the urge to give it to you.”

It does not stop him from giving you offerings.

Of course, he cannot just give up on you. The ruling of whoever deserves your love and affection the most. Of course, he is at an advantage knowing that he’s already your lover.

“Is there something wrong?” You looked up to him, hearing the pitter patter of the rain outside through the taps on the windows. You had your hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing them with your palms.

“It’s nothing, mon cœur, no need to worry.” He flashes you a reassuring smile, and yet, at the back of his mind, he wondered how you could have thought to check on him. Is it perhaps the gloominess in the atmosphere?

You frown as you look at him intently, “There are times when you’d shower me gifts with a saddened look on you. I’m worried, is all.”

He stares at you then. Ah, so you noticed, he thought.

He chuckles as he shakes his head and stands right next to you. “May I?” He opens his arms and you nod and dive right into his chest. He enclosed you into an embrace, relishing the feeling of your warmth.

He kisses your forehead then. “Allow me to bask in your presence for a while.”

For short, one of the best. Definitely a 100/10.

#genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #genshin x you #genshin neuvillette #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff

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writingjourney · 2 months

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The Outlines of a Dream

Gale senses your concerns about the future with his very life on the line. He manages to comfort you – for once without as many words.

pairing: Gale x f!reader // tav!reader

content: 2k words, minor spoilers for late act 1/act 2, angst, fluff, mild hurt/comfort, kisses and cuddles, soft sleepy smut (p in v, v fingering, coming inside, unprotected, emotionsTM, they are so in love with each other sorry), rated E, 18+ only

Masterlist – Ao3 link

─── ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ ───

Magic thrums against your fingertip as you let your thumb glide over his cheek, tracing the purple veins where the orb has taken root inside of him. The sensation is faint, perhaps the lingering remains of your own magic, but it weighs on your heart nonetheless. For a moment you observe your lover as sleep gently takes him. Long lashes touch as his eyelids flutter in a last effort to stay awake, caressing his cheeks with every yet unsteady breath.

It has not been long since you met Elminster just outside the Shadowlands and he bore tidings that you reject more with every further step you take. Gale seemed so determined at the time, he still does whenever you argue about it, but you know that this conviction is slowly dwindling the closer you get to its execution, the closer you two become with no chance of ever building a future. At the very least stabilising the orb has brought you both the physical comforts of each other’s touch and you are making use of it as often as you can amidst the perils that surround you.

The hour is late and you retreated to his tent a while ago, two bedrolls pushed together to create the illusion of a comfortable bed. After fighting off shadow monsters on your way back to camp, washing off the smell of death and a good night’s sleep were all you longed for. But despite your fatigue you can’t find any rest now, anxiously pondering what lies ahead. Feeling quite tender and protective of him, you lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. With a sigh he blinks his eyes back open and you run your thumb along his jaw to soothe him.

“What ever happened to the exhaustion you complained about all throughout dinner, hm?” he grumbles, then at your expression, his brow furrows. “What’s on your mind, love?”

You brush a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Nothing in particular.”

“You’re a horrible liar as I have told you many times before. In fact I should be offended that you still try.”

It is not your intention to lie, not really. You simply do not wish to talk about the orb tonight, to argue yet again, not after a whole day of being surrounded by death and darkness and monsters, and you certainly do not wish to speak about the Goddess who caused his pain in the first place.

“Did something happen, out in the field today?” he asks, ever inquisitive. “You did look rough when you came back, I simply assumed that it was because of the ambush and after bathing you seemed better–”

“It’s not that,” you assure him. “I just want to be close to you, if that’s alright.”

He reaches out to caress your cheek, teasing the knots in your hair until they give and he can run his fingers through the damp strands. “I will make an educated guess and assume that you do not wish to speak about it. Which I will accept, of course, if begrudgingly.”

The corners of your mouth twist into a smile. “How generous of you, my love.”

“If it is distraction that you seek, however…” His hand grips your hair a little tighter, pushing your chin forward until your lips are about to meet. “I shall gladly provide you with that.”

“I thought you were tire–”

He closes the gap before you can finish, chapped lips brushing against even more chapped lips but you forget the signs of your involuntary travels as soon as he presses in harder. His warmth is melting away your worries for the moment, soft mouth and soft tongue contrasted by the roughness of his beard against your chin. He tastes like the herbs he used for dinner, like the glass of wine you shared before bed.

“If I ever tell you that I’m too tired for you then you know the tadpole has finally infiltrated my speaking apparatus,” he mumbles, trailing his lips along your jaw while his hand meanders down over your breasts and along your waist before settling firmly on your hips. “I will never get enough of you.”

You breathe a sigh when his lips attach to your neck and he pulls you flush against him. Nimble fingers massage your flesh while he sucks your skin into his mouth, pulling a little before releasing it and shifting further down. Your own hand is burrowed in his hair, tugging at the soft strands which causes him to release a moan against your throat.

“I need you,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says. “Don’t worry, my love, I have you.”

His fingers snake between your bodies while his other hand slides underneath you, keeping you close by pressing against your lower back. You feel him pulling at your underwear which is all you’re wearing anyway, and once it’s off his hand urgently cups your sex, feeling the heat against his palm. His lips whirr with a low hum when his fingers find your wet cunt, probing at your entrance with eagerness. When he pushes one inside of you you keen and he brings his face back to yours, his nose brushing against your cheek.

“Shhhhhh.” The sound is sharp, a hiss that feels cold against your lips. “We don’t want to wake the others, hm? I’ve grown quite tired of Lae’zel throwing rocks against my tent.”

You nod and he closes the gap for a kiss just as his finger slides in deeper, swallowing the moan that involuntarily leaves you. Adding a second finger, he sets a gentle, slow pace, preparing you carefully while never breaking away from your lips. He is quite dextrous. Observant since the first time you were intimate, he already knows exactly where to press, where to stroke, where to caress.

“Gale,” you whimper against his mouth, rolling your hips into his hand for more friction.

When you feel the heel of it press against your sweet spot a hot spark runs through your whole body. Instinctively you wrap your leg around him, hiking it up behind him to pull him even closer. His mouth opens and he pushes his tongue against yours as he crooks his fingers. For a moment you focus on the kiss, the way he tastes you like you’re the sweetest fruit, devouring you with a hunger that puts any bear or wolf to shame. When you return the favour, resting your hand on his neck, you can feel the deep rumble in his throat vibrating against your palm.

His hips buck, then, and the sounds leaving him gain a desperate quality. You know he’s too far gone when instead of words only groans and sighs leave his lips. Understanding even without language, you fiddle with his clothes, trying to find the lacings of his pants to pull them open. He is hard when you finally palm him, stroking to the rhythm of his fingers moving inside of you. The moment you feel him leaking onto your hand, he loses his rhythm, and you decide that you’re not in the mood for any teasing tonight.

You grab his wrist and pull his hand from you, the loss of him making you clench desperately around nothing. Then you hitch your leg up higher behind his back to open yourself for him while aligning your hips with his. In this angle, his hard cock slides between your legs and when you finally feel him pressing against your cunt you lose all focus. Gale assists you by lining himself up and pushing in slowly, achingly. More needy sounds fall from both of your lips, need and desire coursing through you with every little shift.

Once he is fully sheathed inside of you, he pauses, urgently pressing his mouth to yours again while grabbing at your ass to pull you ever, impossibly closer. You bodies are melting into each other, just like your mouths, the closeness of this new position only heightening every vivid emotion that pools into your belly. You pour all of them into the kiss, everything you feel for him, and when he starts to move your moan sounds more like a sob.

He can’t reach quite as deep from this angle but you don’t want to loosen your embrace and you’re both too exhausted and achy to move too much anyway. It doesn’t lessen how perfect he feels, how your whole body is filled to the brim with love for him even though you struggle to find the right words for it when it matters. You hope that he can feel it, somehow, that he knows every precious moment with him is the happiest you have ever been.

Slowly and in a steady rhythm he rocks against you and you try to meet his every movement. Pleasure trickles into your lower belly, gathering hotly in your core. Gale gasps every time he manages to sink in deeper, his hands grasping at you desperately to hold you tight.

“Feels so good,” you whisper, encouraging him. “Don’t stop, d-don’t ever stop.”

His reply is a strangled moan, his hips stuttering into yours more urgently than before. You clench around him, dangling on the precipice of your peak. It’s a little messy, clumsy, the way you move against each other so desperate not to let any air come between you. But you need him like that, fully, wholly, everything of him that you can possibly have. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to feel it, every moment so invaluable and fleeting.

You come with a sob that rips through your whole chest, the sparks now running through you in hot shivers. As you tighten around him, rolling your hips to ride out the sensation, Gale whimpers in your ear. He spills inside of you not two ragged breaths later, trembling in your arms as he fills you. When he deflates, his muscles going limp as he sinks further into the bedroll, you curl up half on top of him. You’re not ready to let go, not now.

For a long time you just hold onto him and he wraps you up tightly in his arms, breathing kisses to your hair as you both catch your breath. You know you should relax, loosen your muscles to let go of the tension, but you can’t bring yourself to ease your grip on him.

“I won’t let you go,” you whisper.

“I think this is a conversation best had in the morning, not in the middle of the–”

“I won’t,” you stress, clinging to him like he’s your anchor in a stormy sea. You don’t care if your nails dig into his shoulder or if you squeeze the very air from his lungs, you need to hold him as close as possible or the storm will drag you away.

“I won’t go anywhere, love,” he assures you. “At least not anytime soon.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” you echo him. “I should be offended by your weak attempt.”

He gives a soft chuckle, then places another kiss on your forehead that tickles as his beard scrapes along the tender skin. “I would never lie to you, my love. Though perhaps we can both bend the truth a little bit when it comes to this matter, if it means you get some rest tonight.”

You sit up to look at him, running your thumb over the purple lines once more while holding his gaze. You can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear he told you you ease when you’re with him, but you also see the burning affection he holds for you. You tell yourself that it’s stronger, that it’s bigger than the fear, that the roots of your love reach deeper than those of the orb.

It calms you, eventually, and you give a barely perceptible nod. The kiss you press to his lips is soft, an offering of peace, and when you settle back against him, you place your hand on the circle on his chest. It still thrums, you note, the magic trapped inside of him. This time, you let it lull you in, trusting in yourself, trusting in him, and sleep finally comes easier.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list

#gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x tav #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale of waterdeep x tav #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 gale x tav #gale dekarios fanfic #gale of waterdeep fanfic #bg3 x reader #reader insert #female reader #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #sort of

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sp1d3rzz · 2 months

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The Devil's Bride

Ryōmen Sukuna

Warning!! : Mentions of death/killing, forced marriage, and basically Sukuna being an asshole and having no respect for reader.

Summary : After Sukuna reclaims his throne and becomes known as the King of Curses once again, he decides on bringing forth a Queen. You

A/N : I somewhat switch pov's during this so don't get confused. Part 2 coming soon!!

Days have passed since Sukuna has once reclaimed his throne. Yet, he seems to be bored out of his mind. There's nothing to occupy him from his apathy.

Sure, he has countless people at his feet he can order to do as he pleases. But what's the fun in that? He needs something exciting to happen. Something to fill his empty pit of boredom.

He contemplates on whether or not he should start a war, find more slaves soldiers to do his bids, or perhaps even go on a killing spree somewhere random in this dark, dark world. Better yet— why not just kill everyone??

Well, not yet at least.

His teeth grind together and his fists clench in annoyance to this endless pit of nothing he can't seem to shake off.

But just before he rips someone's eyes out with his bare nails from frustration, he forges an idea. And with that idea, comes a no-good smirk spreading across his face.

What does every king have in every fairytale, movie, and book? That's correct. A Queen.

"You." His thundering voice reaches the ears of a guard who could be approximately 52ft ahead of him. "Come here." he motions with his fingers.

Almost immediately, the soldier makes his way up the steps and to the throne of his King. "Yes, my Lord?"

Sukuna makes a simple face of boredom, supporting his head with a propped up fist. "Gather 5 of my best soldiers and find me my Queen." his eyes squint, which silently says 'Hurry it up.'

And without another word, the guard takes off to seek out to the Kings orders.

Not many people could get in the mind of Ryōmen Sukuna. To understand what goes on in that so called empty mind of his is mildly impossible. But, taking a wild guess, the soldier puts together things the King takes an interest in.

Power, Control, and Cruelty.

To find a Queen fit to the Kings likings, she must be innocent. A girl who can't stand up for herself, but when she attempts to, she cowards out.

A girl who needs someone to make the decisions for her. But also a girl who has a little spark in her soul. A spark that can carry her to victory no matter the battle.

This shall be the woman who Sukuna finds quite delightful.

The next step was finding a girl who fits this description.

While this soldier is pondering off into space, he almost forgets about his group of men. Which, he's surprised to see catch up to him with a younger looking woman.

"P-Please!! Let me go!" she sobs, loud enough the birds in the trees fly away and flee from the scene.

Tears flow down her cheeks and onto the dirt. Her clothes are scrunched up and dirty, most likely from how roughly his men handled her. And her breathing is so uneven, she might just pass out.

"I swear I'll never tell a soul—" hic! ",if you just let me go!"

There's two men on each side of her, both practically dragging her through the ground. "We found her out here by herself. She seems to be lost." The one on the left inquires.

Once she's dragged to be met face to face with the lead soldier, he grins.

She's a mess. Forehead so sweaty strands of her hair stick to it. Panting so rapidly, she might use up all the air she has left in her lungs.

The soldier takes one last look at the girl, eyes scanning her over, just to analyze how fit she is to take the role as Sukuna's Queen.

"What do you want for me?! Why– why are you doing this!" the girl begs to know any sort of information. Anything to get a grasp on herself.

No one responds.

She looks to her sides, expecting any kind of answer. But is instead met with the men completely ignoring her.

"She'll do perfectly."

Heavy footsteps echo throughout your head, which by now has been ruined with a horrible headache. Lucky you.

It's hard to tell how long you've been out for. If they've hurt you, or if you've somehow died and awoken in the after life.

The only thing you're sure of is how much pain is coursing through your body. It's to the point you're numb all over and you can barely lift your head up. Barely lift a finger for that matter.

"My lord." A familiar voice rings in your ear and back out. "Your Queen." Another one seems to say in-front of you.

In a desperate attempt to figure out what the hell is happening, you weakly lift your head, blinking a couple of times to regain your focus.

Your vision still remains slightly blurry, but you're only able to make out a set of stairs. Stairs that lead to what seems to be a throne. And in that throne, sits a man.

As you concentrate on this mysterious man, your vision slowly begins to recover.

He has spiky pink hair, long black nails, two eyes on one side, with a plated set of 2 more next to it, and 4 arms? His chiseled shirtless body seems to be tattooed with stripes and dots on each of his shoulders. No, no, this can't be right.

"Bring her here." his voice practically echoes into the air.

Your eyes widen to this sudden command, and you wiggle your arms, attempting to loosen yourself of the men who have you a strict hold over you.

Though it seems to not work, because the men ignore you and continue to their orders. Step by step, the men take you to who appears to be the lead of this whole situation. The man who looks to be the devil himself.

In protest, you kick your feet a little, trying to gain balance and hopefully escape wherever you've been brought to.

But before you can successfully break away, it's too late.

You're met with the horrifying (but somewhat sexy) face of the man who has caused you all of this misery. You scowl at him, which in return earns you a small look of satisfaction.

Disgusting.

His men hold you up to him like a piece of meat, dangling you in-front of his nose as if he was meant to devour you with one swift bite.

His eyes scan up and down your figure. Almost like he's purposely invading your personal space. "Pretty little thing, aren't you?" his words taunt you in a sense you'd never thought you'd feel.

You avert your eyes from his. Turning your head away so he's only in view of your cheek. You're mentally unable to face him.

The prideful moment you had was quickly interrupted. With one swift move of his arm, his hand snatches your chin and snaps you back so you can looking him eye to eye. "Did I say you could look away?" he growls.

His sharp nails press into your skin, making you wince. With how tight his grip is on you, it feels like your skin might tear.

His brows scrunch together lightly as his eyes lock with yours.

"I-"

"Silence." he's quick to cut you off.

Your mouth closes shut almost instantly, and your head drops once he releases you from his grasp. Pathetic.

Everything hurts so much. Your head, your body, and apparently your voice now too.

Small whispers spread around you. From one person to another, you can hear all sorts of comments the strange people are making about you.

If the men holding you up right now were to let go of you, you're sure you would collapse and never get back up again. Fall into an endless abyss and never awaken.

"Take her to the cellar. I shall deal with her later." he orders.

You groan a little when the men tighten their arms around yours. But your vision fades back to nothing as they take you away.

It's been hours.

Hours of crying, screaming, and wishing upon your own death. To end this confusing mess that has somehow been brought upon to you.

You're curled up in the corner of the cell, cold walls and bars keeping you away from whatever source of life might be out there.

It almost pitch black in the haunting cellar. The only things in sight is your arms, which wrap around your legs to pull yourself into a tight ball.

Everything feels dirty. You feel dirty.

Small droplets of damp moisture fall from the ceiling and hit the rough concrete. Your skin is hot, tingling up your bones to the point you might overheat.

Your mouth is dry, deprived from the lack of water you've had in the past week or so.

Before you were captured, you were on the run from home, escaping the endless chains of torment your parents had put you through.

It might have been a stupid decision, especially since you had no where to go at the time, but it had to happen. Your life wasn't meant to be lived like that, and neither was it for this life.

Your eyes close shut, mind struggling to block out the unbearable sound of water meeting cold, hard, ground. It itches down your skin with every fall.

Abruptly, the creak of a wooden door captures your attention quickly. Lifting your head up out of curiosity to see who's there.

"H-Hello..?" You call out, but it seems useless since no one replies anyways. Though you know someone has to be there. The evidence of lingering footsteps tells enough.

Seconds pass by to what seems to be an eternity before the footsteps stop in-front of your cage cell.

Everything, including the man in-front of you, seems so unreal.

He doesn't say anything, just stares down at you as if you were just some dirt on the floor.

"What do you want from me!" You shout at him, but it appears to get you no answer except a irritating frown.

Your teeth are gritted together, and it take everything out of you to not pounce at him. Well, not like you have the strength or energy to do so anyways.

He rests his bottom two arms on his hip, and crosses his other two over his bare chest. "Y'know, you're starting to piss me off."

A moment of silence rests between the two of you before he finally speaks up again.

"What's your name?" it's more of a demand than a question, but you don't care. You don't owe him anything.

And once again, another pass of silence flows by.

He raises a brow, giving you another chance to answer. But, it seems you wont of any use for the time being.

"Name's Sukuna, but you can call me your King."

His words catch you by surprise, lifting your eyes up in a shockingly manner. "W-What..?" you have to confirm what he just said was actually him and not just an imaginary voice in your head.

He let's out a huff, shaking his head to your stupidity. "Do you know why you were brought here?"

Well obviously not, or else you wouldn't have been taken aback to his statement. "No, I don't."

"You were brought here to stand beside me as I rule over this.. kingdom of mine."

And just like that, his words crash and bring down your whole life. Everything you've been through, fought for, and accomplished are all worth nothing. It was all useless.

"No, I refuse–"

A hand slams down on the bars, causing you to flinch. "I don't remember asking how you felt, did I?"

Immediately, you go quiet. The hurtful beating of heart being the only sound audible as he glares down at you from behind the bars.

"Tomorrow shall be the wedding. I'll have my men bring you to me first thing in the morning."

Leaving you no time to protest, question, or even give him a snarky reply, he disappears.

You're left all alone, mind now pounding with how quick this is all happening. You have no say in anything, it seems.

Nothing seems to matter when you feel your eyes flutter close. Too exhausted to reject this rest, you fall asleep.

Thank you for reading! I'll try to have part 2 out as soon as possible (which contains the smut 👀) but I hope you guys enjoyed this so far ^^ Reblogs are also greatly appreciated 💗💗

#destinedtowrite #jjk #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #forced marriage #part 1/2 #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryoumen x reader

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trashywritestrash · 2 months

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On the Subject of Love

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count: 584

Warnings: None, just a short lil thing for Valentine's!

A/N: The card and response poems are from Thomas Richardson’s “Gentleman’s Valentine Writer” which wasn’t actually published until 1828, but I needed ideas okay? Also, I wrote this while Bridgerton was still in the lead in the poll lol

For as long as you could remember, Anthony Bridgerton had always sworn that he was not in want of a wife. Therefore, you were not expecting to receive anything from him as Valentine's Day approached. This is where you were proven wrong.

The day came, and with it came a bouquet of flowers and a card from the Viscount himself. In your sitting room was a breathtaking bunch of burgundy musk roses. The color was meant to represent simplicity and beauty, meanwhile the rose variety stated that Anthony found you to be charming. You picked up the card, but before you could read it, your mother entered the room.

Spotting the obvious floral arrangement, your mother spoke up, "Those are lovely, dear! Which gentleman sent them?"

"Viscount Bridgerton sent them," A small smile graced your features as you gazed upon the flowers. "I must admit, I did not think him to be interested in me. Father only introduced us at the start of the season."

"That is plenty of time for him to grow attached. Don't fret, my love. He only sent flowers, as any good suitor should. It is not as if he is proposing marriage." Your mother chuckled lightly before she noticed the card in your hand, "Oh, he sent a valentine as well? Now that is bold. What does it say?"

The card itself did not feature the same hand drawn images as other cards may, but it was embellished with an elegant gold overlay and floral embossing. The writing was clearly done by hand, but carefully in order to remain legible.

As I wander'd about 'tother day full of thought, With the subject of love I was very much caught: Whether best to live single, or best with a wife; I assure you within me was terrible strife. Thinks I to myself, one is stupid alone, And I'm sure I have read, "two is better than one;" So a wife I have fixed on, that wife shall be you, If it please you, and I will be constant and true.

You felt a heat rush to your cheeks as you read the card. Unable to voice the words aloud, you gave the card to your mother so she could read it herself. Her eyes widened as she took in the meaning of the words. "Alright, he implies marriage! However, this is not a proper proposal. He may be a viscount, but Mr. Bridgerton must ask for your hand officially."

With that, your mother left the room, most likely on a mission to inform your father about the viscount's card. Her absence gave you a moment to stare at the message and ponder your emotions. Truly, you could not say that you were in love with Anthony Bridgerton. You did not know him well enough for that yet. But, it was not as if you felt nothing toward him. His words caused your heart to flutter within your chest, filled with glee at the thought of the viscount having an interest in you.

In little time, you had gathered the materials required to make a valentine of your own. Surely, it would be rude to send no response to his lovely prose. And surely you could send it without your parents reading it first.

"To be constant and true"--your promise is fair, And I with your lines am quite smit I declare; So I, at your word, take you, and send you this line, To say I rejoice to be your Valentine.

----------

Want more fanfic? Check out my masterlist!

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#nel writes #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fanfic

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maximwtf · 3 months

Text

“If you wish so.”

Kamisato Ayato x Reader

Words: 3340

Google docs pages: 7,5

Warnings: Songfic, but I suppose it makes sense even without the lyrics :”D, established relationship, arranged marriage, overworking, angst/comfort

Opening: After marrying the man you’d grown up alongside, you notice how busy his and your life had gotten. You notice how you would be lucky to even see him during the day, and from there your mind spirals to ponder if there is any fixing the marriage anymore. So one night as he comes back to you, you bring the topic up.

AN// Reader can be any gender! Is it my golden birthday? Yes. Am I still writing fanfiction? Perhaps. The song used here -> Song

“If you wish so.”

You were no stranger to Kamisato Ayato, having known him since you were a child. You grew up together, mostly because your parents were close and had a lot of work they did together. This allowed you to not only get to know him, but train to fight with him. He was always a pleasant opponent, since he knew when to stop and when to be serious. He had respect for his opponents, and clearly had been taught the same way you had. So getting along with him had never been a problem.

You wish you could have said it had come as a surprise when your time to marry had come around, and the person chosen for you had been Ayato. But you had your premonition that it would have been him. Only, you had never in your adult life discussed something like this with him. The topic of relationships had never come up in the whole time you’d known him. But you had no fear of bringing the topic up, knowing of the polite young adult he’d grown up to be. And you’d been correct. Neither of you were sure if it was going to work out, but understood the weight a relationship such as this would have and together agreed that you’d try to make it work.

And it had. Later on, you found that you truly fancied him. Maybe you would have figured it out later in life anyway, but the marriage had just sped up the process due to you having to spend more time around him. And you told him this, immediately being assured that he had started to wonder if he was feeling the same way. The realisation had made everything so much easier for the both of you. And not only that, but the public appearances you sometimes made showed the people that you were truly going to stick together. You felt at ease with him.

But when his parents passed away and the weight of the clan's affairs fell upon him, he’d been drowned in work. You had tried your best to comfort him, to tell him that he was doing a good job. But he had never seemed to truly doubt himself, taking upon loads of work while keeping his sister away from the heavy burdens of the clan. As much help as Thoma was, you still worried for the man.

But at the end of the day, you found yourself in the same position as him. You were also expected to take on the clan’s affairs, making you separate from Ayato. And from time to time enough that sometimes you didn’t remember when you’d seen him last. And it took a toll on you as well at some point. Why couldn’t things slow down as they’d been when you both had been just a little younger?

“If you wish so, you shall never be restless again. “

So one day you thought to confront him about it. To tell him that he had too much work to do, and that he should ask help with it from time to time. Or even share some of it with you, if that could be of any help. But the conversation had gone almost as you’d expected.

You’d barely been able to catch him, even for just the moment you needed in order to talk with him. But the moment he saw you, he’d paused. And if you didn’t know any better, you would have missed the pleased look that flashed onto his face the moment he saw you. Appearing for only a short amount of time, yet you knew him well enough to know he was glad to see you.

“Was there anything in particular you wanted to discuss, dear?” Ayato asked, form seemingly now more at ease than before. Something about that easing your mind as well. Not that you’d been worried to bring up anything with him. You trusted the man. “Being at the head of the commission comes at a cost. But don’t you think there is a little too much to do?” You started, not having thought out a speech or even properly how to word your thoughts. A shiver accompanied by panic flashed through your body, quickly adding something to the previous statement. “Of course, I’m confident of your abilities for the position-”, but of course the stuttering and slight worry only amused Ayato, bringing an expression on his face to show that. Though, after that he replied in a more serious tone, knowing as much as you’d stuttered that you’d been serious about this. “Is your work weighing on you? If that is the case, I can assure you something can be done about it. And will, swiftly.” He then said. His voice convincing, not making you doubt for a second that he wouldn’t waste time to take work off your shoulders. He was very comprehensive with decisions such as this. Having dealt with cases like this before, he knew quick fixes for it. But he had gotten it wrong, totally.

It wasn’t yourself who you were worried about, but him and his well being if he continued to work like he did now for as long as his body allowed him to. Something about a future like that scared you, made you wonder how far was a future like that? A future where he’d work to provide for this family until he couldn’t anymore?

“If you wish so, everything mine shall be yours too. “

You put your hands up, shaking them gently in front of you as a sign that what he thought hadn’t been what you’d meant. “That is not what I meant, dear. And even more so, I do believe you have a heavier workload than I do as things are.” You placed your hand at the back of your neck for comfort, looking at the floor as you thought of a way to make him understand. You could feel his eyes on you, patiently waiting for you to come around. As your eyes travelled back to him, a hint of confusion had laid itself in his eyes. “I wished for us to share the work more evenly. For me to take some of yours.” You finally added, voice a little more quiet than before. Ayato had taken a breath after your statement, mind racing for a moment as he tried to figure out why you weren’t pleased with the way things had been laid out previously?

He had intentionally made sure to ease your workload and give it to himself. To make sure the affairs of the clan he was meant to take care of wouldn’t weigh on you too much. To keep your mind off of the dirtiest businesses the clan came across from time to time. How long had you been displeased? It confused him further, but none of it did he let show on the outside. A deeply rooted habit.

“I couldn’t possibly allow you to do that for me.” He started, tilting his head ever so slightly. His voice still held the same calmness as before, as it usually did. “I hope you understand. There is no one else I should worry with the tasks meant for myself.” And he was right.

The work the commissioner did was not something anyone from the staff could do, nor were they allowed to do it. But that’s exactly why you’d offered to help him, to take some of the workload, knowing he allowed you to see the things he saw. And maybe he saw it as trouble enough that you knew of such things. That he thought he was troubling you even by allowing himself to talk to you about them. But you wanted to help.

“If you wish so, I’ll take your religion. “

But you had to show him that it wasn’t only the workload that was given unevenly that worried you. It wasn’t fairness that you sought after. You worried for his health and future, and most of all missed him. Missed talking to him like you were talking now. Only, about more pleasant topics.

You might have intertwined the clans for political reasons, but you did care about him as a friend and as a lover. You would have felt bad later on if you never told him, or if you backed down now and didn’t try your best to convince him.

“But you are worrying me as it is. Worrying me with the workload you have and the stress it puts you under.” You sighed, shaking your head slightly before continuing the rant. “You work so late, I often fear you don’t sleep enough. Worry, because at times I don’t see you in the morning. Nor do I see you at night.” The last words were spoken more silently, having a hard time admitting that you missed him. That being one of the main reasons why you’d even dared to talk to him about this.

Ayato’s gaze had softened, a type of realisation hitting him as he keenly listened to you speak your mind. “I long to be with you again, is what I’m saying. I pine to talk to you before falling asleep and-” You stopped yourself there, afraid someone might hear you if you rambled on. Knowing that you shouldn’t discuss private matters out in the open like this. But also because you couldn’t emotionally bear to talk about such deep feelings all of a sudden. And by the looks of it, Ayato had understood the point.

He now understood where the speech was coming from, why you wanted to ease his workload so desperately. And he would have been lying if he said he hadn’t once thought of wanting to go back to how things were. When there hadn’t been as much to do. But the thought made him feel like he was being pulled in two directions at once.

But he knew he couldn’t fully promise you anything as things were now. All he could do was give you some kind of reassurance. Maybe that would help, even if it pained him to deal with this in such a way. “I may have a few tricks up my sleeve. I’ve made note of it now and…I’ll see what I can do.” He said confidently, but you couldn’t tell if it was a facade this time. He was far too skilled with covering his actual intentions with the way he spoke. Though, the hand he’d placed on your waist before placing an affectionate kiss on your upper cheek gave you some hope. Perhaps false hope, but you wanted to believe it was real.

And with that he'd gotten back on track with what he’d been doing previously.

“If you wish so, even your lies shall be the truth to me. “

But as you’d expected, the hope had been false. As days passed on, you could tell he was still busy as ever and having if not more work to do. But you didn’t complain to him about it. Didn’t whine or get clingy as you had felt after the previous conversation. It had taken some time to shake off the feeling of that after.

But this morning, he’d woken up around the time you had. Giving you time to have breakfast with him, which felt like a blessing directly from Celestia. And not only that, but Ayato had managed to surprise you with what he’d had on his mind for a short while now. “I was planning on quitting work slightly earlier tonight. How about we go for a stroll after, what do you say?” He said calmly while enjoying his food. But even the divine smell of the well prepared food couldn’t distract you from the shock this plan had given you. Thrilled, but not allowing it to show you formed a somewhat comprehensible reply. “That would be much appreciated, dear.” You said politely, swiftly starting to eat as to appear too busy to add anything else to that.

You didn’t see if Ayato had seen the excitement in your eyes, but if you knew him at all you would have guessed that he had. He wasn't one to miss on even the slightest expressions, having become quite awfully skilled at reading people in the past few years. But a part of you wished he’d seen the excitement. Seen it so you could hide the internal fear that this was another lie. No, you didn’t want to call them lies, knowing he was truly trying his best to make this work after the initial conversation.

But something in your gut told you to be wary of such promises. There was no knowing if something urgent would come up today and ruin the plan. And it would hurt more the more excited you were.

“If you wish so, I’ll move to Andorra, so maybe I’ll see you again. “

And so you waited patiently. Did your daily work with care and finished just early enough to prepare yourself slightly for when he returned as well. You hadn’t even worried when he’d taken a little longer than expected, knowing he had more to do than you. He would come eventually.

But as you’d feared, he never came. As the last rays of the sun finally disappeared, you gave up the last bits of hope that he was even going to be back before supper. Something must have come up, knowing you hadn’t seen Thoma much either. But that didn’t change the fact that waiting for someone who wasn’t going to come to you hurt.

Of course you had expected something like this, but a part of you still hoped something could be done about this situation. But then again, the work the two of you did was important and mostly private. So you couldn’t ask for someone to help you sort this out. It was up to your attempts and you weren’t sure how far Ayato was willing to stretch, if at all. But you did want to see him more. To spend time with him.

There was a sense of comfort when the two of you could only be, take off the facade for a moment and just talk. But that had been in the past for a while now. And of course you couldn’t speak for him, but you felt the need to talk like that again. To share your thoughts with him. You’d do anything to get to do that again.

“Without you I’m drowning within restless nights, and without you..you see. “

After waiting for him for long enough, you decided it was best to give up. He’d come back around the same time he usually did, and maybe you’d have time to talk to him tomorrow about this. So you headed to bed.

But the sleep that usually came to you easily was so hard to reach tonight. Your mind spiralled, upset and even a little angry that things weren’t working the way you wished. Usually the voice of reason sorted out your thoughts, but that comforting voice was gone. Far too tired to try thinking logically, your mind kept feeding your feelings and keeping you awake. Even when you felt worn out, you couldn’t find it in you to let your mind rest and fall asleep.

With no sense of time, you didn’t know how much time had passed. But the sound footsteps approaching the bed caught your attention. Your breathing stilled, ears keen on the soft sounds. He had always been so careful not to wake you up when he knew he was coming back so late.

The mattress on his side moved as he sat down, a low sight leaving the man. You contemplated not turning around, pretending as if you’d fallen asleep already. But still in your feels you decided best to face him, turning around on the bed. The room was quite dark at this hour, but you could tell he was surprised to see you awake.

“How come are you still up, dear?” Came to his mind first, the concerned question slipping out almost automatically. You wanted to tell him the reason, but at that moment the reasoning started sounding more and more risible. Instead, you lifted yourself to a sitting position, keeping the covers over your shoulders to maintain the comforting warmth they were radiating.

But something about your mannerism seemed to have been enough to let him catch up on what was going on. “Ah, I see”, his voice lowered but there was no anger in it. He’d sounded more upset than anything. And you could tell that even in your tired state of mind. “Dear, I apologise. You have my word, not a moment went by when I didn’t regret coming back earlier.” He continued speaking. But this time you knew his words weren’t lies or false hope on his part as well. He was being honest, clear regret in the way he spoke to you.

You didn’t know what to tell him. His words brought some peace of mind, but they couldn’t change the fact that you missed him. Missed talking to him just as you were talking right now. Raw. But the more time you spent without replying, the more intense his weighing gaze on you felt.

But there was nothing to be said. You’d tried everything that had come to mind. But maybe this was the last option you had left, as pathetic as it was. “I miss you”, you whined out as the lump in your throat felt harder to swallow down. Ayato’s brows furrowed.

“Without you, I’m halfway to Hell. “

His hand placed itself carefully to your arm, bringing you both closer to one another. His movements, as careful as they were, weren’t unsure. But he was treating the situation as gently as he could.

Not that he hadn’t taken you seriously the previous time you’d clearly tried to work around stating the topic like this. He’d tried taking your thoughts into account, but he hadn’t yet found anything that would work. And the thought of that ached at the back of his mind constantly. But the way you’d stayed up until now and tried reaching out once more shone new light at how much he needed to fix something.

His free hand placed itself at the nape of your neck, moving gently up to your jawline. You leaned into the touch, chewing on your inner lip as you waited for him to say something. “And that feeling is warranted. And believe me when I say, mutual.” He said, gaze soft but firmly on you. “Then come back to me.” You sniffed, looking down for a moment as you quickly wiped your eyes. His hand was fast to tilt your head back up, but only as a mere suggestion to which you responded by obeying. “I will”, the man’s softened voice replied. “For far too long to my comfort I’ve ignored the duty of utmost importance to me. And that is family matters, and it includes you.” He said, surprising even himself of the way he’d held himself together.

The way he spoke assured you, even if only a little. A wry smile made its way to your face, the tears previously threatening to well up had disappeared. “Thank you.” Was all you could think of, overwhelmed and tired. And you assumed he could tell both of those things by the way he replied. “I’ll discuss this with Thoma and you tomorrow morning.” He said, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. “But before that, I think sleep is in order?” And he was right, of course. “For you too”, you reminded him as you knew in the past he had a tendency to stay up even if you’d fallen asleep. But to that comment he replied with a delighted, yet exhausted sounding chuckle. “Hehe, of course.” He nodded, giving you a proper kiss before lying down. And even if this was nothing new, falling asleep cuddled up to him felt refreshing. Knowing that you’d seen him before falling asleep, and you would see him again in the morning.

AN// Heehee, an angst with comfort at the end for my birthday. How fitting, aye? This was also a little testrun for Ayato, see how he feels to write for. So hopefully he’s not too ooc !

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kamisato ayato #ayato #genshin impact ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #genshin x reader #x reader

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toomuchracket · 3 months

Text

secret admirer (dad!ross x reader fluff)

day 1 of valentine's week by bff @abiiors!! in this one... the kids want to know how you and ross got together. cute as shit. enjoy <3

it's at dinnertime when you're first asked the question.

ross is quietly coaxing keir to finish his peas, to minimal success. eilidh swallows a mouthful of gravy-soaked mash and turns to look at you curiously. “mummy… how did you and dad meet?”

“you already know, bean,” you take a sip of your wine and smile at her. “met dad and your uncles when i helped design the stage for one of their first shows.”

ross takes a break from lecturing your son about the merits of eating your five-a-day to look at you and wink. there's a warmth in those dark eyes of his - the same one that got you hooked on him in the first place, actually - and you know he's thinking about that fateful first meeting too. “yeah, when i had to save mum, eilidh,” he chuckles. “from matty talking about his vision at a hundred miles an hour. her eyes were proper glazed over and everything, you know.”

“they still go like that when he talks to you now sometimes, mummy,” keir adds, still pushing peas around his plate. his dad and sister laugh, while your jaw falls open at the fact you've been clocked by your four year old.

he's not wrong, though.

eilidh's giggles fade into soft hums. “but how did you end up being boyfriend and girlfriend?”

ross’s eyes meet yours again. he smirks, taking a sip of his own wine. “d'you want to tell the story, love?” he asks, foot sliding up your leg under the table, flirty. “or shall i tell them how i swept you off your feet?”

“oh, is that what it was?” you tease, trapping his leg between your own.

“of course.”

you laugh. “you and i remember it differently, then. but alright,” you stretch, shuffling in your seat before looking at your kids’ anticipated little faces. “here's what happened…”

2013

“should we do something different for valentine's day?”

you turn to look incredulously at matty, exhaling your cigarette smoke. “is further context required there, or are you asking me out? because absolutely not, if so.”

“oh, charming. thank god i see you as a little sister and no more,” matty winces, taking a drag of his own cigarette before he speaks again. “i mean for the show on the 14th. we could do, like, pink lighting instead of white, or something.”

you hum. “i don't hate the idea. but i think sticking with the black and white thing is maybe a good idea for now. cohesion, recognition, establishing identity as you gear up to release the album, all that jazz, yeah?”

“good point.”

“i do like the pink, though. maybe we could do something with it in the future?”

“yeah. i'll keep it in mind. usual staging it is, then,” matty turns to face you, resting a shoulder on the brick wall. “so, given that you've theoretically rejected me…

you roll your eyes.

“... who are you seeing on valentine's day?”

“nobody. we've got a gig, remember?” you ash your cigarette glumly. “i'll be selling t-shirts with your face on them up the back of the venue all night.”

“and i love you - platonically - for that,” your friend grins. “but what about after the show?”

“after?”

“yeah.”

you ponder. “probably just going home to shower off the residual weed smell i'll inevitably take on, to be honest.”

matty laughs; his face drops when he realises you're not kidding. “oh. you're serious.”

“mhmm.”

“but,” he looks baffled. “you're twenty-three. you're cute, objectively. you're sweet. you're fun. there's really nobody you want to spend valentine's day with?”

well… your lips part of their own accord as if to speak; you quickly snap them shut before you make a sound. no. you can't tell anyone. especially matty, of all people.

apparently, though, you don't close your mouth fast enough - your friend notices, and giggles, eyes lighting up. “who is he? go on, tell me. promise i won't tell anyone, honest.”

“not a chance.”

“pleeeeeeeeeease?”

“no, matthew,” you take a final drag of your cigarette before stamping it out. “i'm never telling anyone, because it'll never go anywhere between me and him anyway, and thus i am perfectly fine just letting the crush i have fade without acting on it. i'll develop another one soon, anyway.”

no you won't. you've never fancied someone as much in your life as you fancy…

“there you are. was wondering where you'd gotten to, matty,” ross wanders round the side of the building, relief evident on his face. it seems to light up when he sees you, but that's most likely your brain playing tricks on you. “oh. hiya, love. didn't know you were in today, s'nice to see you.”

love?!

shut up. it's ross. he calls everyone that, dipshit.

you clear your throat. “hi, ross. s'nice to see you too. you look… well.”

you pray neither of the boys noticed the awkward pause while you came up with an alternative for “devastatingly attractive”, or that your voice didn't sound as small and squeaky as it sounded to you.

thankfully, neither of them mention it. ross just smiles, and all you can do is focus on not squealing at how cute his dimples are. “thanks. you look good. hair's nice like that.”

“oh,” you self-consciously touch the ponytail you hastily shoved your hat-messy hair into earlier. “thank you.”

he smiles again. “so, what are you gonna develop another of? were you talking about work?”

you say “yes” at the same time the gobshite next to you says “yeah, but then we moved onto talking about how she has no valentine's day plans but she also won't tell whoever she has a crush on that she wants to shag them because she thinks it’s unrequited.”

for fuck's sake.

sighing, you facepalm. ross blinks. “fair enough.”

“you don't think she should tell him?” matty looks aghast.

“what i think is that you should stop pestering her about it,” ross looks pointedly at matty, then turns to you. “but - and i don't want to overstep the mark here, love…”

“no, no, it's fine.”

“... you’ll never get what you really want unless you ask for it,” he finishes, a pleasant smile on his face. “what have you got to lose by doing so, anyway?”

this. our friendship. potentially my job, if i fuck it up enough.

“yeah, i suppose,” you murmur hesitantly. “i'll consider it.”

and you do - in fact, you're still considering it when you next see ross, during setup for the gig on the big day itself. he appears when you're pushing the box light into position on the tiny stage, quickly laying down his bass to run and help you, despite your protests that you've got everything under control.

seeing his arms flex as he works, though, and the way the stark white light somehow manages to warm up those dark eyes? you most definitely do not. still, you refuse to say anything to him then. or before the show, when he automatically passes you a beer so you can be included in the pre-gig cheers. or afterwards, when he risks being pounced upon by drunken fans just so he can help you pack up the merch stall, cracking jokes despite his tiredness.

it's only when you're loading the boxes of t-shirts into adam's car that you actually start to think that mentioning the crush to ross might not be a bad thing. you close the boot with a weary sigh, turning to face ross and high-five him - like you always do - with gratitude. and then he does something… strange.

he hugs you.

it's not a long hug, and definitely one of the “thanks, mate” variety, but still. it's not a common thing to happen between the two of you, ross’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and your waist and pulling you into his chest. it's warm. cosy. safe. and as soon as he lets go, you miss him.

before you get a chance to dwell on that, though, he speaks. “you coming to the pub with us now?”

“us?” your brow furrows. “who's us?”

“everyone except adam and waughy,” ross grins. “you're not the only one with no valentine's plans, love,” his face contorts into panic. “wait, fuck, i just assumed, because you said last week-”

“ross, relax, babe,” you smile, beating yourself up internally for the way the pet name just slipped out; you blame the joy that fizzed up in your stomach when he essentially admitted he's single. “i'm coming to the pub.”

he smiles again, relief evident in his eyes. “alright. good. i think we'll have a good night.”

you do, actually, despite matty monologuing the whole walk there about “you should just phone that guy you like and tell him. for the love of god, at least one of us needs to pull tonight. s'depressing if we don't”. it's actually george who manages that first, disappearing after the first round with a redhead and returning, lipstick-stained and gleefully dazed, half an hour later. matty's next, chatting up girls at the bar and collecting phone numbers by the handful, pointing out vaguely handsome men to you with “yes? no? maybe?” to no avail.

ross doesn't pull at all.

not for lack of trying from the female clientele in the pub, though - every time he leaves the table, you watch heads turn in his direction, and some bodies following. envy tinges your vision green whenever a girl approaches him, but you needn't worry; no matter how pretty or persistent or personable the girls are, ross politely chats as he waits for the drinks, bids them goodbye, and comes back to you. well, to the table. where he sits next to you.

it makes you feel good. so good, in fact, that you decide to tell him how you feel, right then and there. you take another sip of your wine - dutch courage and all - and rest your elbow on the table and your head on your hand, facing ross. “i'm glad i came out tonight.”

“so am i,” he mirrors your pose, smiling. god, you love his dimples. “it's been a good night.”

“yeah. not a bad valentine's day at all.”

ross giggles. “as good as it gets for singles,” he takes a sip of his pint, then looks at you a bit more seriously. “you spoken to that guy yet? the one you like?”

you bite down a giggle, shaking your head. “d'you think i should? ask him out?”

“if you really like him, yeah.”

“but,” you look down at the table, absentmindedly running your index finger round the rim of your glass. “what if he doesn't like me?”

“why wouldn't he?” ross's voice is soft - so are his eyes, you look up to discover. “you're great.”

“really?”

he nods. “really great.”

your heart glows. your face does the same. “thank you, ross.”

he shrugs. “i'm just telling the truth, love. now,” he grins, tapping your phone. “ask him.”

bless him.

you exhale, smiling. “alright,” you turn round to compose yourself, then look back at ross with a smile. “would you like to go for dinner with me?”

for a second, you falter as ross's brow furrows. “what, now? like a kebab- oh,” his jaw drops, and he blinks a few times. “really? it's me that you have a crush on?”

“yeah,” you bite the inside of your cheek, nervous. “is that… really bad?”

“hmm? no, no, not at all! just surprising, s'all,” ross takes your free hand in his own. he looks dazed, but he's genuinely smiling. “i had no idea you liked me like that.”

“and here i was thinking i was doing a shit job at hiding it.”

ross laughs, softly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb; warmth erupts under your skin wherever he touches. he looks at you, so tenderly you want to look away. “yes.”

your turn to be confused. “yes i was doing a shit job at hiding my crush on you? or…?”

“no, love,” ross chuckles, squeezing your hand. “yes, i'd love to go for dinner with you. tomorrow too soon?”

you feel weightless, joyous, positively giddy. but you have to stay cool, so you simply beam at him. “tomorrow's perfect.”

present day

“...so, we went for dinner - pasta, before you ask, keir - and that was it. dad said he wanted to be my boyfriend before we'd even gotten to the tiramisu,” you smile at the memory. “and then we were like that for a while, and then we got married, and then we had you two. and now, here we are.”

“that's it?” keir frowns at you, then looks up at his dad. “but you said you swept mum off her feet.”

ross snorts, ruffling his son's hair. “yeah, not literally, keeks. i just meant that she was very impressed by me.”

“i don't get it.”

“well, ask matty to explain metaphors to you when you next see him, then.”

you wince (ross laughs at that), turning to your daughter, preoccupied with petting ash the cat, who climbed onto her lap halfway through your talk. “thoughts, eils?”

“hmm,” she makes a face. “it's not a very exciting story, mum.”

“cute, though, no?”

“kind of, i guess.”

“wow, you two are hard to impress,” you sigh, turning to ross and smiling despite your kids’ boredom. “worked out well for us, though, didn't it?”

“absolutely, love. couldn't have worked out any better,” ross leans over the table to kiss you; you return it with relish.

“ewwwwwwww! gross!”

“dad, please don’t do that to mum in front of me ever again.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #dad!ross #eilidh #keir #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fluff #ross x reader #valentine75

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rendy-a · 7 months

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Bobbing for Apples with Malleus

This is part of a Halloween collab sponsored by @jade-s-nymph. Do check out some of the other Halloween stories coming out on their page!

He looks at you flatly before returning his gaze to the barrel. Then, he puts one long elegant finger to his chin as though to ponder the situation. “I promise,” you assure him, “It’s a real thing!” Malleus tilts his head slightly, letting one of his long trailing locks brush his shoulder, “And what am I to do once I’ve captured this water-bound fruit?” You shrug again, “Nothing really. That’s it. You just fish the apple out of the barrel with your teeth and that’s all.” He returns his gaze to the barrel holding several prime Harveston apples (courtesy of Epel) and again, seems to deeply ponder the meaning behind the game.

You nervously wait for his response, but none was forthcoming; he appeared content to observe the waiting fruit indefinitely. Finally, you ask, “Should I go first?” While you’d thought Malleus content to merely onlook, you were proven wrong by the appearance of a pouty scowl. He gives you a hurt look, “I’m simply strategizing before showing my skills.” You hold in a smile, “Oh, I see. That’s a great idea. I’m sure you will show me something interesting then.” His scowl clears and he gives you a confident smirk, “Be certain to observe me closely, my Child of Man.”

There was no chance you’d disobey that order. As his gaze returns to the apples, your gaze returns to him. You really didn’t care if your paramour impressed you with his apple catching skills or not. You were just happy to have this time to be by the elusive Prince’s side. As he presses his index finger to his bottom lip in concentration, he further exposes his brilliant white fangs. While everything about the lovely fae catches your eye, those differences between human and fae stand out most. You linger over the way the fang brushes against his soft lip, puckering the flesh around it. An amused chuckle emerges from the same mouth, and you know you’ve been caught staring.

You look down, suddenly shy at the attention. “Are you so eager to see me begin?” Malleus asks with a bemused smile displaying his satisfaction, “Very well then, I shall show you the strategy I’ve decided upon.” You step away from the barrel, giving him room to make his attempt. You watch in anticipation, knowing that regardless of his success, you are about to witness the rare sight of Malleus engaging in a whimsical activity. It was good that you were attentive for the attempt is over disappointingly fast. It seems that Malleus had indeed developed a successful strategy of herding the apples into a group before attempting to grasp one with his teeth.

You smiled at the proud fae displaying his caught prize and gave a little clap. “Yay, nice job.” He preens a touch under your praise before his face screws up in frustration. You look at his puzzled, “What is it?” He reaches up and tugs at the apple firmly secured in his mouth and you realize that he can’t remove it; the apple has become caught in his sharp fangs. “Pfft,” you try to hold in the laugh, but it is too much for you. Malleus glares at you as he continues to struggle to remove the trapped fruit from his open jaw. “I’m sorry,” you gasp out, “it’s just so surprising is all.” Having his lover see him in such a state seems to push him over the edge and with one powerful motion, he crushes the apple between his strong draconic jaw.

You turn away, not daring to meet his angry stare as he spits mushed apple from his mouth and huffs a small puff of flame as well. He seems more upset than usual. The murderous gaze he throws at the unassuming apples as he mutters under his breath chills you thoroughly. “Say Malleus,” you try to redirect, “Why don’t we forget bobbing for apples and go do something else?” He shoots you and angry pout, the tips of his fangs just barely visible in his pursed lips, “No more apples. I’m going to write a strongly worded letter to the procurer of these faulty fruits.” You cringe, thinking of the reaction Epel will have to hearing criticism of his apples. “But apples can be nice too!” you try to convince him, pulling his hand to another stand.

Malleus frowns when he sees the caramel apple stand. “Come on, give it a chance,” you beg as you squeeze his hand, “they are nice and sweet. I promise!” He huffs at you but allows his precious human to convince him to continue. You bound up to the stand and pluck an apple from the display, setting the required amount of madol in the jar for payment. You smile encouragingly at Malleus as you take the first sticky bite, letting the sweetness of the caramel candy mix with the juicy flesh of the apple in your mouth. “Mmm,” you sigh happily before holding out the apple to your companion, “It’s good. Try a bite.”

He grasps your hand instead of taking the apple himself. After maneuvering it to his mouth, he turns the apple to take a bite from the same place you’d had yours from. You felt your cheeks grow warm at the sight of it. “Indirect kiss…” you mumble. His eyes meet yours and you see his pupils dilate slightly. He’d heard you. Of course, he had. Stupid powerful fae hearing. You turn your head to the side, avoiding his gaze. “Would you prefer a direct one instead?” Malleus purrs into your ear.

You gasp and turn unconsciously to face him again. Then it is your turn to pout, “Don’t tease me.” His eyes narrow in mischief as he replies, “Child of man, when have I denied you anything?” You look at him for a moment, trying to control your emotions before answering. “Fine then,” raising your chin in a haughty manner, “but only for the apple. I’m not finished enjoying the taste.” His smile takes your breath away moments before his kiss does. You feel his fangs lightly nip at your lips as you taste just the smallest tartness of the apple lingering on his own. When you break apart, you whisper, “See, I told you that you’d like these ones.” He smiles as he pulls you close, “Yes, it was very sweet indeed.”

#Spooky Chattering 2023 #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

Text

Dining with the Dateables THE DATEABLES x gn!Reader | SFW | 2k words Rating/Warnings: Mostly fluff and pining, suggestive content. Some jealous/possessive behaviour if you squint at Simeon and Solomon.

Diavolo

Diavolo and the demon brothers are working long hours at RAD in preparation for an upcoming festival

He is in an office by himself, filling out and signing boring documents while he listens to the echoes of the demon brothers’ lively chatter coming from somewhere down the hall

Barbatos brought him a dinner tray earlier but it sits on the corner of his desk untouched, a petty protest after another stern lecture from Barbatos about the importance of paperwork

He's in a foul mood and he's lost his appetite anyway

He gets up from his chair with an annoyed sigh when someone knocks on the door, but his irritation fades quickly when he sees you standing there, holding up a bag from Hell’s Kitchen with a sheepish grin

“Beel was too hungry to work so I grabbed everyone something to eat,” you tell him, “and I thought you could use a pick-me-up too”

As always, Diavolo is happy to see you and he squeezes your shoulder affectionately before gesturing for you to follow him inside

He takes the neglected tray Barbatos brought him earlier and hides it out of sight while you’re distracted looking for a chair to sit on

He reaches into the bag and is surprised when he pulls out a burger, and his stomach grumbles as he feels his appetite return

He’s three bites into his burger when he realizes there’s pickles on it; the tangy-tart flavour and wet crunch catch him off-guard, and he hides his grimace behind a napkin when he coughs

“Went down the wrong pipe,” he lies. “You got this burger at Hell’s Kitchen, you say?” He’s had burgers from there before, but none with pickles on them

“Beel requested a burger - well, several burgers - and he usually gets everything on them, so I got the same for everyone else too,” you explain

You glance between the slightly scrunched expression on his face and his food. “If you don’t like it, it’s okay - I’m sure Barbatos can bring you something better”

“No, this is wonderful, and I appreciate your company even more,” he reassures you, and the sentiment is genuine; the implication that he’d throw out something you bought for him - pickles or no pickles - bothers him more than he wants to admit

When you finish eating your own food, you smile at him and wish him good luck, leaving him alone to finish eating and continue his work

Diavolo stares at the rest of the burger on his desk and after a moment, he picks it up with a resigned sigh, pondering the things he’ll do for love friendship

Barbatos comes to retrieve Diavolo later once everyone else has finished their tasks and left campus

Barbatos says nothing when he finds the untouched dinner tray hidden underneath the desk, but he smirks knowingly when he remembers what you bought at Hell’s Kitchen earlier

“Shall I stop requesting that Hell’s Kitchen hold the pickles when I place your food orders from now on?” Barbatos asks with a tone that’s far too innocent to be sincere

Diavolo merely glares at his friend and says nothing as he leaves, ignoring the sound of laughter that echoes in the hallway behind him

Barbatos

Diavolo and Barbatos invite you to the Demon Lord’s castle for dinner while Lucifer and his brothers are busy with student council business elsewhere

Diavolo is finishing some paperwork in his office so Barbatos asks for your company in the kitchen, and you happily accept the offer since you don’t have many chances to spend time with him alone

You know that Barbatos is skilled in the kitchen but you rarely have the chance to see for yourself what he’s capable of

The main course is already in the oven and an assortment of Devildom produce is on the counter waiting to be washed and peeled

He offers you a chair and sets a pot of your favourite tea on the counter before rolling up his sleeves and working on preparing a roasted vegetable dish

You ask if there’s anything you can do to help, but he smiles at you across the counter and insists that your company is more than enough

You observe him quietly while he works; he’s skilled with a knife and there’s something mesmerizing about watch him handle a sharp blade with such quick precision

Your interested gaze doesn’t go unnoticed and he’s not sure why the attention fills him with some warm satisfaction

He’s cleaning the countertop after putting the vegetables in the oven but he’s disappointed his private time with you is already coming to an end

He decides to take you up on your earlier offer and asks if you’d like to help prepare some fresh biscuits - an impulsive choice on his part that surprises himself as much as it does you

Your face lights up with excitement, eager to learn how to bake something from scratch - usually Luke brings you baked goods and you know your poor attempts wouldn't compare

“You know, most of the biscuits I had back home were baked using a premade baking mix,” you say, curious to see his reaction

The look of surprise on his face turns to bafflement when you say stores in the human world also sell biscuits in a can; you don’t normally catch him off-guard like this, and you’re trying not to laugh at his expression

He’s ready to insist why his homemade biscuits are the superior choice compared to those other kinds you’ve had in the past, but your laughter is infectious and he can’t help but chuckle too

You’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder at the counter, watching him prepare the dry and wet ingredients, incorporating them together with small chunks of cold butter

With a flick of his wrist, he covers part of the counter with flour and places down the roughly-shaped ball of dough

He pauses for a moment before moving over slightly, urging you to step up to the counter in his place

“Have you ever kneaded dough before?” he asks curiously, not waiting for a reply before he steps behind you and takes your hands in his

“The flour keeps the dough from sticking,” he says quietly, “and sometimes it helps to make sure there’s flour on your fingers as well”

His hands are splotchy-white from flour already, and he holds your hands in his, transferring some of the flour from his hands to yours

He watches while you attempt to knead the dough, but he can tell that your movements are stiff and uncertain

He covers your hands with his own and gently guides you through the motions of pushing down and forward, stretching the dough, turning it, and repeating the process

“The trick is to avoid overworking the dough, or else the butter will soften too much,” he murmurs close to your ear, holding your wrists and keeping you still, “but you did very well”

Your face is warm from his praise and proximity, but you hope he doesn’t notice; he suggests you wash up and says he’ll finish the rest while you relax and enjoy the rest of your tea

Later when dinner has been served, Barbatos studies the way you eat, the way you savour the flavors of his cooking between bites

He thinks about your enthusiam in the kitchen and your eagerness to learn and how your hands felt in his

He decides to invite you to cook with him more often; there's still so much more he wants to teach you

Simeon

You’re invited to join Purgatory Hall for a night of board game fun, but it would be rude not to feed you dinner first

He deliberately accidentally forgets some of the essential ingredients he needs to make tonight’s dinner - one his specialties that he know you’re especially fond of

You pass Solomon and Luke on your way to Purgatory Hall - Luke waves at you excitedly and explains they’ll be back after they go to the store and pick up a few things for Simeon

When you arrive, Simeon welcomes you with a wide smile and a hug, and you’re always surprised by how warm he is (especially since his cloak is nowhere to be seen and his bare arms wrap around you so gently)

You eventually pull back, but he smiles at you and asks if you’d like to help him in the kitchen since the others have stepped out; he’d hate for you to grow bored in the sitting room by yourself

You’re stirring a pot on the stove while Simeon is dicing vegetables nearby; he’s glancing at you out of the corner of his eye and notices when you wince

“Are you alright?” he asks worriedly, wondering how he failed to notice you were hiding pain from him

You laugh awkwardly while you try to stretch out your arm a bit

“I’m okay! I think I slept in a weird position last night. I accidentally dozed off in Levi’s tub again and—”

You hear a thud when Simeon drops his knife on the counter; he takes a sharp intake of breath when he steps back from the counter, holding one hand gingerly

By the time you’re at his side trying to get a glimpse of his injury, his hand is already bathed in the soft glow of magic healing the wound; he chuckles when you take his hand in yours anyway, turning it over to make sure he’s fine

He’s not going to argue or pull away though, not when you’re staring at him so intently, and you’re leaning so close–

There’s a slam nearby when Solomon and Luke return and they’re laughing about something when they come into the kitchen with their shopping bags

Luke drags you away to show you something in another room and Solomon is putting the groceries away

Simeon turns back to his cutting board with a frown, chopping the remaining vegetables with a bit more force than necessary

Solomon

Invitations to eat with Solomon have to be handled with care because you know there are two possibilities: he is cooking for you, or he’s inviting you to eat at Purgatory Hall when one of the others is cooking

Simeon understands your predicament and will warn you in advance if Solomon has taken over cooking duties before the others can stop him - but sometimes, the warning comes too late

Simeon pokes his head into the kitchen, glancing at the pot bubbling away on the stove and trying his best not to cough at the acrid fumes in the air

Solomon’s “Hot Stuff Coming Through” apron is splattered in something that’s an alarming shade of purple

Simeon’s cough startles Solomon who freezes, his arm hanging in midair where he was about to shake another generous helping of…something…into the pot

“Don’t forget they have a sensitive stomach,” Simeon warns him before making a hasty retreat from the kitchen

Another dash can’t hurt, Solomon thinks to himself and shrugs off Simeon’s concerns, humming with satisfaction as his stew simmers away

When you arrive, Simeon opens the door and whispers, “I’m so sorry” before Solomon comes out to greet you himself, announcing proudly dinner is almost ready

Your stomach lurches at the smell coming from the kitchen, but when he smiles so happily to see you, it’s difficult not to smile back (for now)

By the time you’ve eaten a few spoonfuls of Solomon’s soup-sludge concoction, your stomach is gurgling uncomfortably and your lips are almost numb from the overwhelming combination of sourness and heat

You can feel sweat starting to bead along your hairline but through the haze, you vaguely hear him ask how you like it - you manage a quick nod, grimacing as you swallow another sip

Solomon seems completely unaware of everyone’s distress, chirping happily that there will be lots of leftovers for tomorrow

When you can't eat anymore, you realize Simeon and Luke don't look much better than you probably do

When the meal is over, Luke makes a hasty escape; Simeon and Solomon reassure you that, as their guest, you are welcome to make yourself comfortable in the other room while they tidy up

You drag yourself away from the table and nearly collapse on the sofa in the sitting room, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the pain shooting through your belly

You don't mean to, but at some point you pass out drift off to sleep

“They must be tired,” Simeon offers vaguely when he checks on you, noticing your sickly pallor

Solomon is not far behind, and when he sees you sleeping in an awkward position on the couch, he lifts you into his arms with a worried frown on his face

“I’ll take them somewhere quiet to sleep," he suggests, eyes shifting to Simeon briefly before walking in the direction of his room. "Could you let the others know they’ll be visiting with us a little longer?”

His bedroom is dimly lit but when he lays you on his bed, a faint smile graces his lips as he watches the candlelight flicker across your face

He leans closer and listens to your steady breathing in the quiet room, and he thinks you look so comfortable in his bed, and he wonders how long your fragrance will linger on his pillow–

He steps away from you quickly when Simeon's footsteps approach his door

Solomon glances at you one more time before he closes the door reluctantly quietly so you can rest

#obey me dateables #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader #obey me fluff #omswd fluff #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #obey me suggestive #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #gn!reader

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royalarchivist · 4 months

Text

Oscurucho: Welcome back, brother. Cucurucho: What. Oscurucho: Not even a "Good morning"? How cold.

Here's Cucurucho and Oscurucho's long lore conversation from yesterday! The entire conversation lasted about 8 minutes, but most of that time was just silence between each exchange, so I edited out the long pauses and got it down to ~3 minutes. I also fixed the audio levels and added subtitles since I personally find it difficult to understand Oscurucho sometimes :'D

I hope folks find this helpful!

[ Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]

Oscurucho: Welcome back, brother.

Cucurucho: What.

Oscurucho: Not even a "Good morning"? How cold.

[They enter Cucurucho's office]

Oscurucho: I wanted to see if you're still as rigid in your beliefs as ever. You see, I've been thinking about our... Let's call it "philosophical divergence." You stand for order, for predictability. But where's the fun in that? You see, brother, while you build, I ponder the beauty in tearing down. It's not just destruction - it's rebirth. A chance to remake things in a more... thrilling image.

[...]

Oscurucho: You once had a backbone for our cause. Now, I see a softness in you, a sentimental weakness for those Eggs. Mere experiments, and yet - they've softened you.

Cucurucho: Your vision obstructs the path to perfection. You fail to understand the potential of the Eggs.

Oscurucho: Potential? They're but catalysts for change - for revolution. Without them, stagnation reigns.

[...]

Oscurucho: You chase perfection, I embrace the beauty of flaws. Your world is one of order, mine thrives in chaos. You wish for everything to run smoothly, I dream of watching it all burn to the ground. We may share a name, but our souls are worlds apart. All your efforts, all for what? Mere acknowledgment from a Duck who told you to do it? Imagine the possibilities - rather, show me where it is, and I'll do the rest.

[...]

Oscurucho: Speaking of possibilities, I couldn't help but notice how easily others can access the island. It seems your security measures aren't as impenetrable as you think.

Cucurucho: No. My island's vulnerabilities are of your own making. Do not mistake restraint for ignorance.

Oscurucho: Pity. But then again, I never really needed your approval. Just consider: Cucurucho - in your quest for order, have you not sown the seeds of your own undoing? Do you genuinely trust all your Federation minions?

Cucurucho: ...

Oscurucho: Perhaps it's time you question not just my intentions, but those who you believe stand with you.

Cucurucho: That is none of your business, I shall say. Now, leave me alone and try to disturb someone else.

#Cucurucho #Oscurucho #QSMP #December 21 2023 #Edited #Subtitles #For those who like knowing the gritty details and specifics about the things I did for this video -#I adjusted Cucurucho's volume because they were very quiet compared to Oscurucho #I fixed the sound direction (for lack of a better word) of Oscurucho's voice b/c he was speaking through my right headphone 90% of the time #so now it's more of a ''centered'' audio rather than a right ear or left ear thing #I added subtitles (obviously)#I fixed the camera a bit so it's more focused on Cucurucho / Oscurucho #and I adjusted the translator box so that even with the crop; they're all still included #usually they get cut out when I edit things because I'm just focused on the characters; but then one day I was like #''Why am I cropping out this thing that specifically helps people understand the story better?''#So moving forward I'll see if I can do what I did here and add translation boxes as their own ''layer'' overlaying the clip itself #for big lore videos anyways or for clips with long conversations at least #I jokingly said to myself ''I bet I'll wind up shaving 5 minutes off this'' and I was right lol #I enjoy the official QSMP streams but one major critique I have is that the pacing was a bit slow in one or two streams #which is understandable considering many admins have to write in books (which takes time) and translate things (which takes even more time)#And that's valid! But in the last stream (the one with Elena) for example; many scenes dragged on far too long #and it wasn't because people were taking extra long to write books or translate things. It was purely a matter of pacing #idk I'm a professional writer and editor so I'm extra nitpicky about things like that. I think it's something that's pretty easy to fix tho #This is just my critique in terms of the story pacing - like I said; the time it takes them to write / translate stuff is understandable #this is more of a comment on the overall pacing #anyways rant over #Today's stream had much better pacing! Still a bit slow (again; I cut 5 minutes from this conversation)#but that's due to the communication medium (TTS) so that's understandable. That's valid. I'm not fussed about it; that felt natural #Take all the time you need kings it's hard to translate things on the fly. I get it.#Portfolio

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escha-evenstar · 6 months

Text

My Name

Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader

Summary: Azul surprises you by covering your eyes and making you guess his name.

Word Count: 700+

Notes:

Established relationship.

Azul calls you "sweetheart".

Suggestive themes ahead. Nothing explicit though.

A/N:

This. This is the spiciest thing I have ever written. But like I mentioned above, nothing explicit. It's not entirely spicy. But still! Uwaaahhh I don't know *hands covering my face and turning head side to side from feeling shy* >///< Just.. just read.

"Ah!" You exclaimed in shock at having your eyes suddenly covered by someone's gloved hands.

"Guess who I am correctly and I shall reward you," he said. "If you guess wrongly," he continued as he moved his head closer to your ear, his voice becoming low as he whispered. "...I'll have to punish you."

You couldn't help but giggle at his actions. You already knew who he was the moment he made contact with you, but decided to play along.

"Mmmm.. can I at least ask questions about my mysterious captor? I wouldn't want to be punished for guessing wrongly."

"Three questions. I'll let you ask three. Afterwards, you are to guess my name."

"Only three? That's kind of hard," you said while pouting.

"Then you better ask the right questions, sweetheart." He said huskily, putting emphasis on his endearment for you.

And, oh my.

The way it rolled off his tongue made you feel a bit weak on the knees.

"Hmmm. Alright. For my first question, is my captor.. great at cooking?"

Azul smiled. "Yes."

"Hehe. That's interesting," you said amused. "For my second question, is my captor.. someone with a higher position in his dorm?"

I am Housewarden of my dorm, Azul thought.

"Yes, I am. Proud to say, in fact."

"Wow! That's really nice. I'm sure you must be an amazing person," you said, still feigning innocence.

For the third question, you decided to tease him a bit. "Last question. Is my captor.. extremely smart and attractive?"

That made Azul pause. Good thing he still has your eyes covered because otherwise you'd have seen the pinkish blush on his face.

Your words kept running in Azul's thoughts. Smart? Definitely. But attractive? Well..

His past has made him feel insecure about his appearance. Hence, he continuously worked hard to maintain his current figure. You did say you find him to be very attractive, both in human form and in merform. He knows you're genuine with your compliments too. Still, Azul feels a bit shy from hearing such words from you.

Does he say yes? Or maybe just invalidate the question? Azul pondered.

From the silence you receive, it was safe to assume you had Azul flustered. You tried to stifle your laughter. "Hehe. I'll take that as a yes. I mean, even your voice sounds attractive," you said, making him a blush some more. "I think I know who you are now, mysterious captor."

Azul tried to compose himself from your teasing, putting on a confident front once more. "Is that so? Remember, if you guess incorrectly, I'm going to have to punish you."

"Yep. I'm sure!"

"Then what's my name?"

"Someone who's really good at cooking. Someone who's great at school with an important status in his dorm. Someone who's intelligent and very, very, very attractive. You are.."

Azul was waiting for your response with bated breath.

"Jamil?" You said playfully, even though you knew he was Azul.

You were expecting a reaction from him, but there was none. He wasn't moving. And something in the air felt different.

You then realized you were in trouble. Big trouble.

"No, wait! I'm sorry. I was only kidding. I know it's you Azul!" You pleaded.

No response.

"...Azul?" You called out to him nervously.

A few seconds passed by before you heard a heavy sigh from behind.

"I thought you would have gotten the right answer but it seems my hope was misplaced. You poor and unfortunate soul."

He moved to cover both of your eyes with a single hand instead as the other traveled down to wrap tightly around your waist before he pulled you closer. Your back in direct contact with his chest.

"You're just asking for punishment, aren't you?" He said right next to your ear, his voice dangerously low.

"No! I was just.. ah!" You were cutoff as you felt him plant kisses from your ear down to your exposed neck, making you blush. "Mmhh.. Azul~" You moaned softly.

"That's my name, sweetheart. If only you said my name." He started to bite down and suck on your skin, leaving a red mark. "I could have given you a nice reward but you just had to give a wrong answer."

He continued his onslaught on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites. "But don't worry, sweetheart. You won't make that same mistake."

Azul whispered in your ear once more. You could imagine that handsome smirk as you hear the deviousness in his voice.

"I'll make sure the only word you'll be saying afterwards is my name."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #escha writes🩷

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cowpokeomens · 8 months

Note

helloooo ~

could you please do a casual outing date with noah sebastian? anything from a simple lunch to some shopping just super fluffy and cute thank uuuu

Ask and ye shall receive! This is loosely based off of an experience I had a few weeks ago (The entranced window-gazing, not the almost-sugar daddy part, RIP me ig) Enjoy!

You had a long week. It seemed like your higher-ups gotten more demanding with each passing day. As if going to a shitty job wasn’t hard enough on its own, Noah was home from tour, too. You could drag yourself to work with the promise of a venti triple shot drink from Starbucks most days, but with his sleeping form next you in bed- warm, tattooed skin on display- the feat of getting up became nearly impossible. When the weekend finally rolled around, you embraced it with open arms, sleeping in until 11AM on Saturday.

You awoke to the smell of coffee, stretching your arms and padding your way into the kitchen. You found Noah there, sweatpants slung low on his hips, swiping on his phone while music played softly from the TV in the living room. He glanced up upon your arrival.

“Well good morning, gorgeous. I was starting to wonder where I was going to hide your body.” He flashed you a lopsided grin.

You returned the smile, going over to where the coffee pot was still set to warm. “You couldn’t get rid of me that easily, Sebastian. I’d haunt your ass.”

“Oh no! I hope the scary, sexy ghost doesn’t watch me in the shower!” Noah mock-cried, waving his hands in the air for effect. You giggled at his antics, adding creamer to your coffee as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “What’re we doing today, buttercup?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Well, I need a new pair of shoes for work, supportive sole type shit-”

“Nope.” You were cut off by the man behind you. “No boring work shit today. We’re having fun.”

“Fun?” You echoed, turning just enough to waggle your eyebrows at him.

He rolled his eyes, snorting at you. “Not that kind of fun, you freak. Good, wholesome, Christian fun.”

“Ooh, are we gonna make out on the bus on the way to church camp?” You mocked him.

“I cannot stand you. Have I said that before? Because I can’t.” His actions betrayed his words as he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, then the top of your head, then your shoulder again.

“Then what is your definition of ‘good, wholesome, Christian fun,’ Sebastian?” You turned to face him fully, sipping from your mug.

“I was thinking retail therapy. We could go to that shopping center you like so much, with the paper store that has all the tape and stuff.” He puffed his chest proudly for remembering it.

“The stationary store.” You pondered aloud. “I could get stickers.”

He nodded eagerly. “I’ll buy you so many fucking stickers, baby.”

You grinned up at him. “I’m sold. Let me brush my teeth and find udnerwear-”

“-Hey, no pressure from me-”

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him. “-And then we can head out.”

_________________________________________

A few hours later you found yourself in a shopping center somewhere in the northern section of your city. It was more of an outdoor mall, but you really only preferred a small corner of the sprawl.

Noah walked beside you cheerfully, hand tightly clasped in yours. His other hand held a cute, pastel blue bag from the stationary store, where you had racked up quite the tab. Before you could get your card out, though, Noah was tapping his own against the machine.

“You didn’t have to do that, babe.” You pouted, feeling guilty.

He shrugged. “I’ve got that ‘Rockstar Boyfriend’ money now, baby, I can buy you stickers.”

You snorted at him. “Glad to hear that Jolly has been filing you guys’ taxes correctly.”

“Hey, I help, too.” He protested.

“Mhm, no one can work the espresso machine for him quite like you, dear.” You mollified him.

“I can’t believe I’m being treated this way, I have an ‘Alternative Press’ cover, y’know-”

He got quiet when he noticed you had stopped walking. He glanced at you, concerned, then followed your line of sight.

You were gazing, open-mouthed, into the window of a purse store. You didn’t actually know anything about luxury brands- much less designer handbags- but you could recognize art when you saw it.

It was black, probably genuine leather. A cross-body bag, pleasantly spacious without being large. Its silver rivets glinted at you in the midday sun, enticing you with their gleam. A thick, silver chain decorated the top, contrasting sharply with the clean cut of the long black handle.

“What?” He asked at last.

“Sorry.” You responded absently, still not looking away.

He huffed a laugh. “Do you want to go inside?”

“No.” Came your immediate response.

“Babe, I know that look. That’s how you looked at me the first day I got back from tour. Now, I’m not so insecure as a man to let a purse threaten me, but if you start talking dirty to it-”

“Shut up, Noah.” You finally broke your stare to turn to him, giggling. “It’s just pretty is all.”

“‘Pretty?’” He repeated.

You nodded earnestly, already beginning to walk away.

“Well hey, if it’s so ‘pretty,’ let’s go inside and get a closer look.” He tugged on your joined hands.

You grimaced, lowering your voice. “Baby, it’s probably like, a gajillion dollars-”

“Oh, I hope so. I just so happen to have a ‘Gajillion’ Monopoly dollar in my pocket. C’mon.” He tugged you once more, finally convincing you to follow.

The inside of the store was freakishly white. White walls, white display podiums, white chairs. Who the fuck comes in here to sit? You wondered to yourself. There, in the field of white, was your black sheep in all its glory. Noah released your hand as you glided over to it, sighing dreamily. You didn’t see anything saying you had to keep your hands to yourself, and you couldn’t resist the urge to touch it. A hand came up to run a single finger along the rivets, bumping up and down at their protrusion. You gripped the side experimentally, loving the squish of the leather. You had never been a bag person; You used the same backpack for the entirety of college, purchased for $20 at Walmart. You had other bags, mostly to carry things from point A to point B, but this was different. This was- what did the fashion bloggers call their clothes? A piece. This was a piece, not just a purse.

You were shaken out of your reverie by Noah walking over to you, peering at the bag curiously. “You ready?”

You let out a deep breath. It was absolutely a gajillion dollars, and you could not justify the expense. You turned to Noah, about to say an affirmative, when a new, large shopping bag caught your eye.

You recognized the brand emblazoned across the bag as the same one from the window. Your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Noah, what did you do?”

His grin was devilish. “Relax. It was actually only half a gajillion dollars, quite the steal if you ask me.”

You could feel yourself panicking. “What? No! Go give it back!” Your whisper was frantic.

He was outwardly laughing at you now. “No.”

Your eyes widened further, incredulity coloring your tone. “No?”

He shook his head, leaning in close to you. “Nope.” Then, taking your hand in his, he happily walked back outside, ignoring the saleswoman’s call of “Come back again soon!”

You barely kept up with his long legs. “Noah, I do not need a gajillion dollar-”

“Half a gajillion, babe. Half.”

You huffed. “Whatever. I don’t need an expensive purse, it’s not fair for you to be spending that kind of money on me when I can’t repay it-”

“I can think of a few ways you could repay me.” He cut you off again with a wink.

“Noah.” You stopped walking. He could hear the change in your tone, stopping to turn to look at you. “I can’t- baby I really appreciate it but I can’t-”

“Hey.” He said softly, coming up to look into your eyes deeply. “Hey. This isn’t about owing me or anything. There’s no need for that between us.” You nodded, the movement small. “I see you busting your ass. I see you working hard. I can see that you’ve had a shitty couple of weeks. So if I have to go back and buy you all the gajillion dollar purses in that store, I will do it. If it will make you happy, I will personally see to it that you get every gajillion dollar purse manufactured on this continent.”

You couldn’t fight off the smile at his words, so sincere and sweet. He kissed your forehead for good measure, offering his hand out to you.

“If it makes you feel better, you can buy lunch. The lady in the store talked me into getting the matching quarter-gajillion dollar wallet, too.”

Your jaw dropped. “Noah Sebastian-”

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfic

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thevoidscreams · 2 months

Note

Hello!

I would like to see something with Mortarion. Pre heresy when he's feeling unloved as he's not quite living up to the emperor's vision for him. He's supposed to be the second strongest Psycher of the Primarchs yet he Refuses to use his power.

Even pre monster form I've always loved the idea that Mortarion is gardener/herbalist in his spare time. Collecting plants from conquered worlds and giving them a home in a personal green house of sorts.

A servant who is commonly sent to give him messages/retrieve him when needed strikes up a bond with him over his eclectic garden.

They marvel at his plant expertise and abilities. They give him an outlet to talk about his special interest in detail. They support his passions and even offer understanding about why he's uncomfortable using his magic.

Overtime spent in that humid greenhouse, both start to feel it, the attraction. The brief glances or gentle brushes of hands as they talk and work in unison.

Mortarion has never really felt anything like this. And so strongly! It frightens him. Frightens him because he fears chasing this small glimmer of happiness away if he oversteps.

But oh...Oh he dreams of the alternative. Of bodies pressed into intimate warmth, of kisses stolen quickly or bitten ravenously while he towers over his sweet one. It feels like he can barely control himself, and it's only getting worse.

Little does he know his little honey bee is already swooned to him, but they too fear overstepping. They're a baseline human, and Mortarion is a demigod like figure. He'd never view them in such a way.

They shall be content being his mortal confidant, his sidekick so to speak. They've even acquired a special gift for him to show their care (and sooth the heartache for a love that they believe will never be.) A beautiful floral specimen from their own home world. In their world's language of flowers these blooms represent eternal devotion and love.

Its a subtle way to confess their feelings, and also find closure. After all they're certain Mortarion doesn't know their planet's flower language.

... Now what happens when he turns out he Does.

(For making press March if its not clear. You do great stuff btw okay byyyyyy)

Day thirteen!!!

Pairing Mortarion x reader

Warnings: Sex, first-time sex for Mort, and two idiots in love.

Mortarion stared down at the pots in front of him. His hearts hammering in his massive chest.

The plant's colorful petals shine especially bright among the other plants. They were gifts after all that made they special. Even among all the strange and alien plants he’d gathered over the years.

He’d collected you much the same way, once nothing more than a go for, a messenger who he enjoyed seeing. Until he could no longer bear to see you go, wondering when he would see you next. If he ever saw you again at all. So he took you, just as he did his plants. Pulling rank to have you reassigned to his conservatory. Where you’d expressed a good deal of knowledge about plants. He was certain it had been the right move as you had seemed to grow into the role naturally.

He’d even made changes for you. Something he’d done for no others. Such as adding several water features with live animals. It made the place hum with new life. Mortarion would watch you buzz from one task to another, bust like a bee. It was how he took to calling you his honeybee. His sweet little bee.

As he pondered, the last words you spoke to the primarch bounced around his head.

‘They reminded me of you when I saw them.’ You said, offering him the gifts. His hands brushing yours not so accidentally as he took them. Lingering a moment longer than was strictly necessary.

‘Is that so?’

‘Yep.’

‘And why is that?’

Your cheeks had tinged pink with a blush and it made him smile under his mask.

‘They just have a nice meaning.’ You told him quickly and ducked away to go prune some fruit trees.

His mind raced, a blue orchid, and a red rose. His mind pulled up the meaning of these plants but he was sure he must have misremembered. He’d gone to his study to find his old book about gifting plants and the symbolism of the colors and species.

He hadn’t misremembered. In fact he’d been spot on.

Orchids, the book had said, were a flower that could be symbolized by love, desire and sexuality. But could also be symbols of good luck, harmony, good health and good fortune. They were blue however. The rarest color form of orchid was blue and they were unique.

On its own the orchid wasn’t a dead give away and he could have pondered the meaning of it for a long time, with still no confidence to act.

But the roses. His hearts fluttered again. Roses had many meanings, all of which had multiple meanings. But red was impossible to mistake when given as a gift. They weren’t the pink of gratitude, or the yellow of friendship or even orange which could mean fascination.

You’d mentioned the meaning specifically when giving them to him.

And red, or at least in rose language, was meant to represent devotion, passion, romance, desire, and true love. It was a lover’s flower. Given to him by the one he loved so ardently it hurt.

He came back to himself as raindrops began to pelt the roof and shake him from his recollection. He stood lifting the potted plants and taking them to a place of prominence in his conservatory. Where all would see them and admire them.

He waited for you to return today. His thumb caressing the petal of the rose. Imagining it was your lip, soft and supple as you lay under his body.

He’d gone without his armor, only a mask to aid in his breathing.

HIs hands reached for a spade as he shook the images of you from his mind.

Instead he focused on his plants and their needs. Caring for them. Just as he would care for you. If you were his.

His mind continued to stir as he continued to plant, turning soil so that his lovely roses would be able to grow into a magnificent bush.

Would your love grow that way? Blooming as it took root and grew into something more.

The door to the flower garden opened and he heard you approach. He wondered if he should find you and confront you about the flowers you’d chosen.

He decided to let you work for a bit. Hoping beyond all hope that he wouldn’t scare you away. You were perhaps his only real chance at love.

He looked up at the glass windows high above and watched as the rain that fell in sheets across the glass.

The rose was planted and watered.

He would go find you now.

You had been trimming dead leaves from a butterfly bush. Helping so that hopefully the new growth would have a chance.

Mortarion had even said that he would let you have some butterflies to liven up the space once he was able to source them.

On the outside he was often grumpy. But inside you knew he was hurting. Despite that he took your help in the conservatory graciously and was kind to you.

Your hand stroked over one of the bicolored flower stocks. The purple and orange enchanting you.

Your mind drifted to the feeling of his hands on yours and the even rarer case of his hand on your back as he sometimes did to direct you.

They were so big, they’d easily be able to hold you. Easily cover your body as he… it felt like your face caught fire it got so warm.

You wished you could have just told him you loved him outright. But if he didn’t feel the same you ran the risk of his sending you away. Of him replacing you as his assistant and maybe.. Falling in love with the next one.

It hurt so bad to think about that you almost dropped your clippers. No, you would give him flowers, and keep the secret of your love in your heart. Where it would grow with every passing day till it consumed your whole self. LIke mint left unchecked, spreading to every corner of the garden that was your body.

“You’re here early.” The sound of his voice shocked you and you did drop your clippers. He reached out and snatched them, lightning quick despite his size. His font was pressed to your back and the heat of Mortarion’s body chased away the chill you’d gotten from the rain coming in.

“Yes. Thank you.” You turned to look up at him, slotting your clippers into your tool belt.. Eyes wide and warm.

“I was hoping to see where you put the plants I gave you.”

Mortarion nodded. “I just finished planting the rose.

HIs hand found its way to your back. GUiding you along and warming you. It felt nice and it made another wave of very unprofessional things come to mind.

He led you to the main display, which had been empty while the primarch decided what he wanted to put there. You gasped when you saw the rose. It was planted in the main display.

“I am still trying to find the best place to put the orchid. But I assure you it will be a main attraction as well. It is too beautiful to be off in some corner. Things that are beautiful should be seen and appreciated.”

His eyes were on you as he said the last part. Of course you didn’t see as you were breathless about how much he had enjoyed the gifts.

Mortarion swallowed and knelt next to you, even then he was an inch taller than you.

“I need to ask you something. And I want you to be honest with me.”

You turned to face him, his yellow green eyes meeting yours.

“Yeah of course Mortarion, what up?” You felt unusually nervous.

“Why did you pick these blooms?” He asked seriously.

You told him you wouldn’t lie.

“If I’m honest with you, and you don’t like my answer..will you make me leave?”

Your eyes got a bit blurry as you pictured going back to your old life. Running messages and being yelled at for things that were in them despite them not being your fault. Or even worse, going back to a life without him. You didn’t want to lose any of what this place had to offer, but losing him might as well have been the same as dying.

“You will not. I promise you. You are far too important here to be rid of without serious cause.”

You nodded, slightly comforted.

“I got them for the meanings they hold.”

“ANd you know what they mean. Do you not?”

“I do.”

Mortarion figured as much, but his hearts were racing, he needed to hear you say it.

“Did you mean it? When you gifted me these plants knowing what they symbolized?”

“I did.” You brushed your hand over your arm. Certain you’d at the very least be laughed at. Who were you to make moves on a primarch of all people? You looked away. Mortarion was trembling.

You meant it. You really meant it.

His finger touched the bottom of your chin and turned you back to face him. His other hand came up to remove his mask. “I love you too.” He said softly.

Your jaw dropped and you were at a loss for words for a moment.

“You do?” You practically shouted.

Mortarion smiled. “I do.”

He took your hands and held them close to his chest. “Will you be mine, Honeybee?”

Your eyes widened and tears of joy dripped from your eyes. “Of course.”

You leaned in and kissed him.

Mortarion wrapped his arms around you. Your lips were every bit as loft and warm as he’d imagined on all those cold and lonely nights.

You stayed in each other’s embrace for a long minute, kissing one another with as the longing you’d both possessed.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.” You told him with a very dopey smile on your lips. Mortarion found himself falling in love all over again as he saw it and met it with one of his own.

“As have I.” the primarch told you.

“Well that and a few other things.” You admitted pressing your forehead to his.

“Such as?” He pressed, wondering if you were as desirous of him as he was of you.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, you supposed.

“Things like feeling your hands on me. Or being laid down on the soft moss carpets in the other room and taken by a big handsome primarch…one like you.”

It was Mortarion’s turn to look at you, jaw dropped.

“Unless you don’t want to or don’t feel that way.” You amended quickly.

Mortarion just chuckled and kissed you again. He’d had that same fantasy, of taking you on the mossy ground next to the main water feature as the high waterfall crashed into the water below swallowing your cries so only he’d be able to hear you.

He pulled away slowly.

“There are many places in this conservatory I’ve daydreamed about teaching you a new way to ‘pollinate’ a flower.”

Your stomach did a little flip and you leaned into him.

“Well I always want to learn more. I’d be happy to learn whatever you will teach me.”

Mortarion stood and scooped you up into his arms. He had just the place.

He’d waited so long to have you. To love you. And now that you were his he was feeling rather uncharacteristically impatient to show you just how much he longed for you.

In the room with a pond of fish he’d had made for you, really he wondered how you hadn’t known he’d loved you sooner, there was an old willow, it was currently in bloom.

He took you under its branches. They draped around the tree like a skirt and completely blocked the view of the trunk from the rest of the room.

Mortarion set you down and kissed you again. “I would like to have you, fully. If that is amiable to you.”

“It is. I’ve had many daydreams under this tree.” You giggled.

“As have I.” He agreed. “I will start this, so that you know what I have to give you, and if it is not to your liking, I will understand.” There was an undeniable air of sadness about the statement but you couldn’t imagine not liking him in any capacity.

He raised his shirt and pulled it off. He was leanly muscled but very defined and your hands immediately went to his chest. He continued with his pants. Pulling them down to reveal his pale body in all its glory.

You were struck by how stark yet beautiful he was, not a single bit of hair on him aside from the long white locks on his head.

He stood waiting for your judgment.

You gave it readily. “You’re beautiful Mortarion. I’ve never seen anything like you. And I don’t think I ever will anywhere else. Your body is perfect to me. In all of its aspects.”

Your hands ran down his form, touching him in a way he’d thought he’d only experience in dreams.

“Then you are not repulsed by me?” The pale giant asked.

“No, I really like it.” You assured him immediately.

You took a step back as he knelt again waiting. Your hands tugging your shirt up, he reached out to unclip your belt of tools, setting them aside. He eyed your chest as you tossed the shirt over with his clothes and began on your pants. Pushing them down.

You were left standing almost naked before him in only a bra and panties.

His hands went to your hips and his mouth found your throat kissing the tender skin and making you shiver with delight.

You hooked your finger into your panties pushing them down and letting them fall.

Mortarion grabbed you, pulling you down into his lap as he sat.

He ran his hands up and down your body learning every curve and dip.

When his hands came back up you back he gently unclipped the bra. You pulled it away. Mortarion drew in a breath. You were the stunning thing in this conservatory, he was certain of that. And you were his, all his to have and hold and love.

He patted his lap. “Turn for me?” You did, sitting with your back to his chest as he reached down to stroke your damp lips. “You're absolutely breathtaking.” He sighed, rubbing the rough pads of his fingers over your impossibly soft pussy. Loving every inch of it as he did.

One finger probed your entrance and, finding it plenty wet, slid the finger in.

The action drew a moan from you and your head fell back on his shoulder. Letting him work. The finger brushed over a few sensitive spots, the primarch was watching, learning from each gasp and adjusting till he had you writhing in his lap from pleasure wrought by his own hands.

Every squeak or sound of satisfaction made him work his hand a bit harder. “I can take another.” You panted, yearning for more of him inside you. He gave it. His ring finger joined the middle and stretched you out more as he continued to observe, halting at any sign of pain, and waiting till you were comfortable before starting again. It was a process of stop and start that had you half mad with need. Once he mistook a sharp inhale of pleasure for pain and you almost screamed not to stop.

Whether he realized it or not his care for you was causing the worst case of edging you’d ever experienced. Drool dripped down from the corner of your mouth. Your head lulled to the side and a soft whine bubbled up from somewhere inside you.

“Please, just like that. Don’t stop.” Mortarion pressed a kiss to your forehead, happy to keep it up.

“How are you feeling my Honeybee?”

“Close.” You told him honestly.

“I want to feel you come.” He peppered a trail of kisses from your face, down your neck and nibbled your shoulder.

That sent you over the edge. You came hard on his fingers, and he worked you through it, steady and comforting.

His finger left you and he brought them up to his lips, he licked the juices off. The flavor made his cock all the harder. You slid from his lap, turning around to face him.

You reached for his cock and he stiffened. No one had touched him this way before.

He knew how this should work. Buth knowing and doing were two separate things.

He watched you stroke his cock curiously. Your eyes fixed on his as you bite your lip. It made him want to jump you. And as nice as it felt to have you touching him, he wanted me.

“I would like to have you, to fill you.” He rasped, his voice getting a bit hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“Please.”

He raised you back up into his lap as it felt right.

Lining up his leaking cock with your leaking pussy he was hopeful that it would suffice for making things easier.

It did, as big as he was compared to you, he pushed in and met no resistance. You’d been ready since you’d last cum. As good as it was, it wasn't enough, you wanted more.

Letting your weight aid you, you speared yourself on his cock till you couldn’t fit a single bit more. He was longer than he was thick, but that wasn’t much of an issue given the fact that even being on the thinner side it was still more than enough to stretch you. Putting mind numbing pressure on all those delicious places inside you.

“Will it be sufficient for the task at hand my Honeybee?” He breathed, his own head a bit fuzzy from the perfect warmth wrapped around his cock.

“Absolutely. Fuck even your cock is perfect.”

He hugged you close and pressed his face into your shoulder.

You both sat like that, intimately embraced and ready to finally make good on a fantasy you’d both had countless times.

You moved first, using your footing on the grassy earth to raise yourself up and then drop.

Mortarion's hands swiftly went to your ass and hips, helping you to move.

It was everything he’d reamed and so much more.

Soon enough your efforts were taken over by your lover, he raised you with ease and pushed you back down onto his cock with fervor.

That was just fine with you though. You kissed him deeply and allowed him to explore your mouth as he fucked you.

“Damn it all. Why didn’t I tell you sooner?” He asked with a bitter little laugh.

“Great question.” You told him moaning as his cock kissed your cervix gently. “I should have told you as soon as I realized.”

“And when was that?” The primarch asked.

“That first week I worked with you.”

Mortarion cursed in a language you couldn’t understand.

“We might have been married by now if that was the case.” He felt like such a fool, for the last few years you’d both been a source of love and light in each other's lives.

“I suppose we’ll have to make up for all that lost time then.”

Mortarion moaned and hugged you tight again, thrusting his hips up into you.

You came again, the already wet slap of skin becoming even wetter.

Mortarion fucked you a minute longer. His body grew hotter and the coil in his belly winding tighter as he got ready to cum inside someone for the first time. It was completely different from his hand. The thrusts grew sloppy and he groaned as he came. Pushing into you to make sure not a drop was wasted.

Mortarion laid back in the grass under the willow, you rested on his chest as his cock slipped out. You were both spent. But very satisfied.

“I love you Mortarion.” You yawned quietly.

He smiled, it was genuine and warm and he’d never smiled like it before, it felt good to smile that way.

“I love you too, Honeybee.”

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #primarch x reader #40k #my writing #primarchs #warhammer 40k x reader #fanfiction #primarch #mortarion #mortarion x reader #mating press march

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magicalink · 9 months

Text

Which part of me wasn't good enough?

Art by myangtao on twitter

So most people voted for me to post unfinished drabbles as they are so that's what this is: an unfinished drabble. I wrote it back in august of last year and it was for a collab from a user called bluexiao but that month was very agitated for me, I had lots of family things including helping my grandma recover from a surgery so I never submitted it on time :( And I still can't come up with an ending, so if you like it leave a comment and tell me how would you like it to end. Shall we add some comfort to this story or we leave ig at full angst? Lemme know your thoughts.

"Which part of me wasn´t good enough?” the little puppet had cried, looking up to the distant figure of his god. His creator, the mother who never recognized him.

“Don’t worry, dear boy, for you were always enough for me” you said to the puppet, tending your hand with your heart in it for him.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“Too bad you were never the one I wanted to mean something for” he said bitterly, averting his somber gaze from you.

You retreated your hand with your wounded heart inside of it back to your chest, which ached sharply.

“It’s okay,” you said with a trembling smile on your lips, hiding your pain “It’s normal” you still try to offer him some comfort “We are all not enough for someone we want to please with all our might at least once in our lives”

The silence was so deafening you could hear his uneasy breath. Tears started pricking your eyes, threatening to fall, but you held them in with all your strenght.

"Life can be so cruel sometimes" You muttered and he shooted a glance at you, filled with rage "We always pursue those who don't care about us and we despise those who would die for us," you lamented "Even now, this is the first time you finally look at me, and you do it hatred," you averted your gaze, quickly catching a tear with your thumb, hoping he didn't see it.

Your hands on your chest tend to your wounded heart, trying to soothe its feeble sobs.

The puppet huffed heavily through his nose, observing you with contempt.

"Why would I even look at you?" He barked, with the same lack of mercy he had learned from his mother.

You shook you head gently.

"I just wanted to dry your tears and give you all the affection I felt for you inside this heart." you whispered, said thing still glowing in the center of your bosom "It's not much, but it's all I have." you said, caressing it gently, waiting for it to heal.

His frown didn't leave his face, but this time he glanced at your treasure with interest. That was a heart? The relic he had been meant to hold but was deemed unworthy of?

Was that one yours?

"What would you have done with it? What's in it for me?" He asked cautiously, staring while pondering what to do.

A modest but tender smile perched on your lips.

"I would have hugged you, and craddle you in my arms and told you how much you mean to me. How much I love you with this little heart of mine."

Would that make him feel whole?

Was that all he needed? Would that heart fill the void in his chest?

If there was a possibility, no matter how fleeting it was, he had to have it.

"Prove it." he demanded with the authority he always believed his divine creation bestowed him, as if ignoring the fact that his cheeks were still stained with trails of tears.

You opened your arms for him, your heart shining brighter just by the thought of finally embracing him.

He observed the thing marveled. He wouldn't admit it, but it was far more fascinating than any divinely created machinery he had seen in his long and sad life.

He was ready to tear it away from your chest with a merciless strike of his sword.

But just as the thought was crossing his cold and desperate mind, all his violence was kept in place by your arms.

His eyes widened, shocked. You had closed the gap between the two of you to hug him.

He stayed immobile, unable to process your action, trying desperately to grasp all these new and strange sensations.

The warmth of your body, the softness of your skin, the smell of your hair...the sound of your heart.

He couldn't bring himself to close his eyes when his face was snuggled in your loving chest, your hands caressing his head with immense fondness.

The puppet had never experienced something like that.

After a lifetime of neglect and violence, it was shocking, it was confusing. So he stayed still, unable to process it but unwilling to let go. Bathing in the warm light of your heart.

Since he could not pronounce any more words, you decided to tell him the ones you had wished to tell him for a lifetime.

"You were always enough for me, dearest boy. The sweetest and most beautiful flower," you said, your cheek nestled on his hair.

"Why?" The puppet protested, tears of anger streaming again down his face. Those words were much more than those he wanted to hear from his god, from his mother. And that was the hug she never gave and would never give him.

Then he recieved the most beautiful gift, even if he was unable to appreciate it.

"Because I love you," you admitted, planting an adoring kiss on his head "I always have and I always will..." he grabbed your clothes as if about to push you away to protest "It doesn't matter if you don't love me back, it's okay. It's normal, sometimes our love is unrequited. We both know it very well don't you think?" you smiled at him.

"Why?" He complained, still nudging his head in the sun that was your chest "Why, if you know it? She said it," he cried again, his tears wetting your clothes "I'm fragile, and weak, and I have a hole in my chest that makes me feel empty! I'm not a god like her and I'm not a human like you! You should stay away from a puppet like me!" He exclaimed, taking out his anger on you again.

"If I had a heart like this..." he murmured, his hand making his way up to the center of your chest, where your relic was still shining. The thought of stealing it from you crossed his mind again.

But you stopped him again, cupping his face in your hands to look at him in the eyes.

"You feel a hole in your heart?" You asked, booping his nose with yours.

"Yes!" He whined, squirming in your grab trying to get away.

"And it hurts?"

"Yes!" He barked.

"And it makes you feel like you are empty inside?" You insisted.

"Are you deaf...?" He exclaimed.

"And does it make you feel lost and unlovable, and makes you wander lost through life, from one place to another because you feel you don't belong in any place?" You asked.

"Yes!" He shouted at this point, annoyed by your questions.

"Then what you have in there, my dear boy, is a human heart." you said, pointing the center of his chest with your finger.

He stayed still for a couple of seconds, staring at you, unsettled by your words.

"You are lying." he said, but it was more for himself than for you "You are lying to me." he, repeated, frowning at you in distrust "Look at yours! It's so clean, and warm, and it's shining! And you are so sure about what you want, even if you are insane for even thinking about getting near me!"

"That's because I don't deny it, and I take care of it." you said with a gentle smile "Mine also made me wander through lots of places, and has taken me back to you. And it hurts too. You made it hurt when you rejected it," you admitted with a tint of blush on your cheeks. "But I don't deny that pain, I let it hurt and take care of it to heal it, see?" You point at the mended cracks on it's surface.

"I made that?" He asked, looking closely at the healing wounds of your jewel "Even without my sword?" You nodded "And you're still willing to give it to me?"

Maybe there was no need to steal it from you.

You closed your eyes and sighed. You nodded again.

"Only if this time you accept it." you said, stepping back to cut the hug and taking a hand to your chest.

He wouldn't admit it, but he hated to let your arms go.

"I'll take it, for I was made with no heart and the one I was destined to yield was denied to me." he said, hypnotized by the green light of the treasure you were about to gift him.

You gently shook your head and looked at him with a tender smile. He wouldn't listen to words. He had to see it by himself.

You took your heart delicately and then you stretched it to offer it to him.

He took it with both hands, impatient and desperate, his tears finally drying.

It glowed intensely, warmly, it twinkled between his fingers, as if it was overjoyed of finally being with him. You observed him with a smile again.

But when he took it to his chest, nothing happened. It didn't fit. It didn't enter.

"Told you it wasn't going to work," he said, a knot tying his throat tightly. He was tempted to throw it away in anger, but he still held it to his chest where the hole ached sharply.

You shook your head, enveloping his hands in yours. He lifted his gaze to look at you.

"I told you," you whispered, leaning close to him, trying to comfort him with your warmth "It's because you already have a heart of your own. All you've been looking for was always inside of you." he shook his head too, unwilling to believe you, closing his eyes shut to avoid dropping more tears.

"It's just a hole." he cursed.

"Shh..." you hushed his angry cries, taking your lips to his forehead "It feels like a hole like any human heart. Because you have been denying it and starving it. You have to find it and feed it."

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He was getting used to your touch. Then you used you other hand to press your heart to his chest.

He leaned closer to you. The light was warm and cozy.

"See?" You said, pointing at his chest with your glance.

Sorry to cut it but this is all I've got to this drabble, if you got any ideas on how to end it lemme know😅

#scaramouche x reader #fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #writing #scaramouche x you #scaramouche #reader insert #kunikuzushi #genshin fluff #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #genshin angst

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hoshinoyozora · 1 year

Text

The Snake Mirror

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Jamil Viper x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 2,8k+

❤ Warnings:

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

Thinking about turning this into a series, but we shall see if I have anymore ideas. Feel free to share yours, tho!

“If you want a pleasant surprise, try chanting ‘Mirror, mirror on the wall’. Nighttime works better.”

You didn’t know what to expect when the mirror shop owner bent down to whisper something to you. At that time, you merely nodded and tittered as you always did whenever you felt confused with a stranger’s words yet wanting to stay polite. Crowley grinned knowingly and withdrew from your ear. He certainly looked as unique as the things he sold; a half-mask resembling a raven’s beak, a greatcoat over his suit with thick blackbird feathers curl out from its blue-collar while the tips of the coat were cut to resemble two bird wings, a pair of black gloves with golden claw rings on each of his fingers, three mirror-like accessories on his hip with four golden keys dangling from them, and another mirror-like charm on his hat which had three more keys. Through that mask, his eyes glowed golden in the dimly lit shop. Until now, you still weren’t sure if he truly had golden eyes or it was merely trick of the eye.

Regardless, the surprise you encountered was more ‘mixed’ than ‘pleasant’. Within the golden mirror, framed by slithering snakes and a single red gem on the top, was a handsome man with tan skin, sharp charcoal grey eyes, and long braided black hair. He wore a black and purple robe, trimmed with golden key and various designs. He displayed a neutral expression, but if you were to observe further, you might see a slight annoyance in it.

“Good evening, Master. I’m here to carry out your wishes. For now, you only have three wishes left.”

His voice was low, almost like a murmur, yet no less robotic. He kept staring at you as you sputtered and whipped your head around searching for someone to help you despite the emptiness of your room.

“Oh, God. What should I do? He didn’t tell me I’d see a literal guy on my own mirror…!” you mumbled. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I was just curious and…”

The man merely blinked.

“You can go back, if you want to.”

“Is there nothing you want to wish for right now, Master?” he intoned. “If so, I shall leave until you call me again. Properly.”

You winced at the emphasis and nodded repeatedly, tittering.

“Y-yes, of course. Sorry for… bothering you.”

And he disappeared as quickly as he appeared. You stood before the mirror, staring blankly at the glossy reflection of yourself. The more you watched it, the more it looked like an ordinary mirror. Almost. Certainly, the mirror was worthy of your money in the most unexpected ways, even if you bought it solely to replace your old broken one.

Regardless, the mirror incident was soon forgotten in favor of your ailing grandmother. Although this time, she was hospitalized. The small family restaurant you worked on wasn’t enough to cover the bills, and you pondered long and hard to earn some extra money when you finally acknowledged the mirror again.

Should you do it?

“Mirror, mirror on the wall…”

Magically, the man materialized and greeted you in the same low, robotic voice. You wondered if it was rude of you to use your wishes when you didn’t even know his own name, and asked him to introduce himself.

“Me?” If it wasn’t for his slightly widened eyes, you wouldn’t notice his surprise at all. A question flashed in your mind about whether he was the type to have subtle emotions since birth or if he was taught to never show his discomposure. “I’m Jamil. Jamil Viper.”

“Oh, I see. That’s a nice name.”

An awkward silence ensued, and Jamil schooled his features back.

“Master, is there anything you wish for tonight?”

“Right, I–” you paused at the afterthought. “Is it… possible for you to cure someone’s illness?”

He rose an eyebrow.

“It depends. I can’t heal terminal illnesses, since I can’t intervene with fate too much.”

“Right.” Luckily, your grandmother didn’t have that kind of illness. Although it was still severe, nonetheless. “Can you heal my grandma? She’s being hospitalized right now and I… don’t have much money to pay for the bills.”

“Your wish is my command.”

And the next day, you received a call from the hospital that your grandmother had completely healed. Your mother and sister were understandably shocked, but they chalked it up to miracles and rejoiced over the news. Your grandmother had laughed and moved around smoothly as though she was never ill in the first place.

“Jamil, thank you so much for granting my wish! I’ve never seen my grandma looked so happy and healthy before.”

If you could grab his hands to emphasize your gratitude, you would. But Jamil seemed startled enough by your glistening eyes and wide grin, so you assumed he understood already.

“I-it’s nothing.” he stammered, then cleared his throat. “I was merely doing my duty.”

A look of realization and slight dread replaced your beam.

“… Ah, yes. I forgot to ask you, but is there any consequence for those wishes?”

“Huh, that’s the first.”

You blinked owlishly, wondering what was so amusing from your question.

“Karma works in this kind of situation too, but very few people know about it. Even if they do, they either ignore it or realize it all too late. Nothing is truly free in this world, you know?”

You looked down in understanding, missing the way his eyes glinted meaningfully.

“I understand. That means I have to use my wishes as wisely as I can, right?”

He stared at you for a moment.

“Right.”

***

There was a new restaurant in your neighborhood.

It was more modern, more expensive, and more varied in terms of menu. Slowly, your longtime customers began to trickle out and move to the new restaurant. Competition was nothing unusual, and you were certain you’d meet this kind of thing again had you worked somewhere else. But you wouldn’t deny that it hurt to see your social media feeds were full of photos and praises for the new restaurant. The food you’d painstakingly cooked early in the morning had to be thrown out, only to be made all over again. The lack of tips further dismayed you, and worse of all, you sometimes caught your sister gazing longingly at the new restaurant. You knew that she would’ve moved and worked in there too had she wasn’t so loyal to the family, but you ensured your mother wouldn’t see her yearning and react negatively.

“Jamil, can I ask you for another thing?”

So, here you were, sitting in front of the mirror and talking to a person whose existence nobody would believe. Jamil was sitting down too, but with more composure than your slumped figure had.

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

You rested your head on your palms and sighed heavily. While it was nice to have some break during work, you’d take busy days over empty days any time.

“I want my family restaurant to flourish.”

“… Why?”

“Because there’s a new competition and it takes most of our customers.”

“Don’t you want to… eliminate the competition instead?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m not that cruel. I just… I just want our restaurant to be the best in town. If possible.”

“Of course.”

The next day, a surge of new and old customers crowded your restaurant. Chatters and orders muffled the ambient music, and the smell of food and beverages filled the place. It was exhausting, but there was a small smile on your lips during the entire shift. Even your mother seemed relieved, deeming the phenomenon as another miracle.

“Oh, Jamil. Thank you again! My restaurant was filled to the brim today, and we got so much tips too!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’d be concerning if it wasn’t.”

He looked away, but it wasn’t out of arrogance so much as embarrassment. Your grin softened to an adoring smile.

“You’re really cute, you know that?”

“W-what?!”

“Are you not used to people thanking you? Or is this the… first time you’re doing this whole wish-granting duty?”

Jamil fell quiet, and you feared you’d offended him somehow.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to–!”

“It’s fine, I get it.” he sighed, closing his eyes as if preparing himself. “And no, this is not my first time. I’ve been doing this longer than you think, and I’ve met lots of people with various personalities. Some only consider me as a tool to make their biggest wishes come true, while some are formal, to say the least.”

“I see.” You couldn’t say that you understood his feelings, but you could sympathize with the ‘tool’ part because some customers also considered you as a servant to their demands. “So, how did you land in that mirror shop?”

“Ah…”

Now he was being hesitant, and you didn’t want to make things anymore awkward between you two, so you told him to ignore it.

***

“For your last wish, I think you should be more selfish, [Name].”

You looked up in surprise. Jamil was polite when it was necessary, but he was generally blunt. Still, this was the most unexpected thing he said thus far.

“W-what are you talking about? My wishes have been ‘selfish’ too, no?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” he deadpanned. “All this time you’ve been ‘wishing’ for other people’s happiness more than yours. But are you really going to spend all of your chances for them? Don’t you want a little something for yourself too?”

You stopped to ponder on his words. It was, indeed, true how you’d been requesting for blessings to your family. Sure, you felt the impact or benefit, but it wasn’t genuinely your blessing, to begin with. Your grandmother often told you to reward yourself after all the hard work, and although this was more of a ‘shortcut’ than anything else, her words still held some weight.

“Okay.” said you after a moment of contemplation, and, as always, Jamil patiently waited until you dismissed him verbally. “I wish… I wish I could have a boyfriend.”

And yet, despite his encouragement, he took a rather long time to grant your last wish.

“Jamil…?”

“You want a what?”

“I-I want a boyfriend.” You didn’t know why you were stammering now, or why he was looking at you so scandalously, but you did know that the temperature had dropped. Your hair bristled, and you were tempted to shoo him away for the night, but you persisted and asked softly, “Is that so bad?”

He remained quiet and kept watching you, until he finally sucked a breath through his mouth.

“… No, of course not.” he paused, seemingly thinking about something. Then, his face brightened slightly. “If that’s what you wish, I shall make it come true to the best of my ability. Let this be our final meeting too, Master. And… thank you for making my life pleasant, even if it’s fleeting.”

You wilted. You forgot that this would be the last time you met him. Maybe you should procrastinate on the wish for a bit longer, but what if he wanted to see a new person instead? Someone kinder and friendlier than you. Your heart ached at the thought, yet you were comforted by the smile on his face. It was a little larger than usual, perhaps prompted by the gratitude he felt for you.

You smiled back.

“Thank you for being so patient with me and grant my wishes too, Jamil. You never disappointed me, and I hope the next person will be just as pleasant.”

“You’re right. I never disappointed you, did I?” he murmured, although he still maintained eye contact with you. “I hope you won’t be disappointed with this one, too.”

Suddenly, your eyesight began to blur. You blinked repeatedly and put a hand on your head as if trying to anchor yourself to the ground. Yet the ground was what you felt on the back of your head along with a dull pain as you succumbed to the darkness.

And the last thing you saw was a dark hand that reached out from the mirror.

***

The sand surrounded the palace-like building as you leaned against the balcony in an attempt to convince yourself that you weren’t dreaming. There was an invisible barrier that prevented you from leaping from the balustrade, and your mind unhelpfully supplied that it was, in fact, magic. Golden lanterns hung at various spots in the vast ceiling, complemented with golden lamps that illuminated the lounge room. There was a silver tray containing two matching small cups and a pitcher, and colorful rugs spread out over the entire room. In the center of the rugs, the red one, lied a pile of plush pillows that imprinted the shape of your body. It was comfortable, and you’d love to bury yourself in it forever had you didn’t wake up in a strange place. Stars twinkled coyly in the dark blue canvas, mocking your ignorance of the situation.

“Enjoying the view?”

You spun around, noting the obvious change of clothes. He wore a black and red sleeveless jacket, an undershirt, a yellow belt, black parachute pants, and black sneaker-sandals. There were several gold accessories in his body; the most striking one was the shoulder cuff on his right shoulder, shaped like a snake. He seemed more casual now, more relaxed as though he was visiting you during your stargazing. You recoiled despite the considerable distance between you two and almost bumped against the balustrade behind you.

“J-Jamil, what…? Where am I? Why am I here?”

“You said you want a boyfriend, no? Well, here I am. Your boyfriend.”

“You’re joking.”

He frowned.

“I’ve been fulfilling your wishes left and right and listening to your sorrows and happiness. I might as well be your boyfriend.”

“But you’re not! That’s not what I’m asking!”

“No, [Name]. You did ask for a ‘boyfriend’, but you never specified ‘who’ or ‘what’.” he hissed. “Don’t you ever heard of the phrase ‘be careful of what you wish for’? I’m not a mind reader, [Name], and I don’t want to. If you ask me something so vague, then I’ll give you what I think will suit you.”

You gaped, and your throat began to tighten. To yell or to cry? You didn’t know. Everything was too much for you to comprehend at once. It was true that you did share your sorrows and happiness, and you’d mistakenly believed him to be your friend due to his patience and support. But you didn’t expect that he’d harbor any feeling for you beyond gratitude; one that was dark enough to led him to kidnap you.

“Where am I, Jamil?” you whispered once you were fully cognizant of your surroundings for the second time. “Where am I?! Tell me! Am I still in my city?! My neighborhood?!”

Something told you that you were far from home, too far, but you refused to believe it. Even if you were in another country, it was still much better than–

“You’re in my world, of course.”

His home.

“Or the ‘mirror world’, as some of you called it.”

The night wind howled, filling the temporary silence and fragile peace.

“… I want to go home.”

“You can’t. The mirror has broken now.”

“Why? Why is it broken? Crowley said it’s an old but durable mirror. I paid too much money for that.”

“It’s not a matter of how much money you spent to buy it, although I’m grateful for your efforts. But, you see,” Jamil started to advance towards you, and you had no way out than to swallow and bear with the ever-encroaching proximity. He lifted your chin, feeling your jaw tensed. “The mirror always breaks once the owner gains his ‘happily ever after’. If he doesn’t, then Crowley will retrieve the mirror from the patron’s house after they get the justice they deserve and sell it all over again. And, yes, I am the true owner of this mirror. All of you might pay money for that, but you ask things from me and you play with my rules. And once the mirror breaks, it can never be sold again.”

“So, all this time, you’re being passed down in search of a ‘happily ever after’ bullshit?”

Jamil sneered at your insult.

“That’s rich, coming from someone who also seeks for happiness. Don’t pretend to be dumb. All of you are the same. You just so happen to focus more on your family. But in the end, you succumb to your selfish desires too, don’t you?”

“You said I should be more–!”

“Shut up!” He clasped a hand over your mouth and glowered. “That is no way to speak to your boyfriend. I told you, karma works in this kind of situation too. I can repay your kindness to your family by making you healthy and rich forever, but if you treat me badly, then I’ll treat you just as similar. Do you understand, [Name]?”

You merely glared back.

“I said, do you understand?”

Reluctantly, you nodded.

“Good.” Jamil withdrew his hand and allowed you to slump against him. Patting your back, he cooed. “This way, I can continue to help you and vice versa. Because I never forget a favor… or an offense.”

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