#He will become my focus and main priority.
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I hope to get more active again here. If anyone is interested in writing, let me know, and I will send you some memes.
Simon will become my main focus and main account. I just have more creativity for him and want to explore more possibilities.
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nct dream reactions, what sex + aftercare with them is like
smut
nct dream ‘00 liner + mark
this is very long and in bullet point format
☆ mark lee
a very soft dom
sex happens frequently, it catches him off guard sometimes but you’re horny for him 24/7, he doesn’t quite realise how sexy he is and that’s what makes it so interesting and fun
delicately taking the clothes off each others body even even in desperation and even if you’re rushing, you just have an intensifying love for each other
presses the most comforting and softest kisses all over every inch of your body
doesn’t fail to make you feel loved and beautiful
praise after praise, he’s so in love and in awe of you, he can’t believe he’s yours and your his
chuckles and tuts, warns you to be patient when you close your thighs tightly
he’s all about the foreplay
he likes a gradual and sensual build up
presses open mouthed kisses to your pussy, sucking and lapping at your folds
makes you cum by eating you out before his cock is even inside of you
loves when you scream his name and he’s not even inside of you, gives him the confidence boost he needs and deserves
he always looks so beautiful above you, his hair falling down and messily hanging over his eyes
his eyes that are so full of light and love as he stares deep into your eyes that share the same feeling, never breaking eye contact
you guys love tired and lazy sex, he’s a busy guy so you can’t expect 100% energy all the time! but it’s enough, the lazy kisses, muffled moans, lazy thrusts… it’s still perfection
giddy smiles and laughs, definitely kisses you while grinning
soft touches on your face, hand holding is a must, hands over your boobs as you ride him or suck his cock when your head is hanging off the side of the bed
loves being inside of you. his no.1 feeling in the world, nothing else comes close
loves seeing where you connect
heavy sighs and moans leave his mouth
the most softest and sweet open mouthed kisses against your lips when he bottoms out
hands gripping your thighs as you wrap them around him waist
truly feels like he’s making love with you
every time he’s inside you he thanks god, he falls in love with you a little more every time he’s buried deep into your tight cunt
it’s so tight and he loves it
heavy panting and breathing
grunts and moans of your name
he whispers in your ear, words he only wants you to hear. “your pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?” “such a good girl for me” “fuck, yeah, just like that baby girl” “this feels so good”
occasionally he has a dirty mouth and can be very pussy drunk. “you pussy is so tight for me” “you’re so tight” “pretty cunt so tight just for me” “my cunt”
the aftercare!!! he will give you everything and anything, he will go above and beyond to care for your needs and make sure you feel as humanly good as possible
he will apologise to every inch of your body that he hurt, he will also kiss every inch, making you feel loved doesn’t stop with sex, it’s a forever thing, he will always make you feel cherished
massages every inch of your body, tells you how good you are for him and how much he will love you and always will love you
☆ renjun
he’s a soft dom or a switch, he fucks with his only priority being you, making you feel good and loved, giving you pleasure and meeting all of your needs, you come first always
his love language, acts of service, comes through even when he’s fucking you
sex with him is super sweet and loving, it always ends with the most full feeling in your hearts. making love with him is the best
he’s definitely whiny and can beg for you
his main focus is praising you and loving you
loves when you take the need and initiate it, he just loves when you get needy and beg to ride him, loves when you become desperate for him
loves when you try to ride him after he’s fucked you dumb
your palms pressed against his chest or your hands tightening in his as you bite your lip, determined face as you ride up and down his length, his hands guiding you
but you’re always so weak, you’re already so wet and so fucked, nonetheless he loves it when you take control
he’s usually in a softer mood, will never fail to tell you how much he loves you and appreciates your body and this moment
loves the feeling of your walls clenching around him, loves the sight of your pussy making room for him. it's always so snug and tight
prefers when the two of you make little noise, loves the idea that he’s the only one who can hear how hot and sexy you are
moans nonstop in your ear, moans concealed only for you, choked sobs and grunts of your name, all to give you reassurance and turn you on, he lives to turn you on.
his moans are very airy and light
covers your mouth or chokes you when you’re being too loud, or even kisses you when he’s in a soft and loving mood (which is always)
a lot of cockwarming, aftercare is all about feeling close with him
he’ll hold you all night long
it’s a very loving and caring experience with him
temple and forehead kisses as he confesses his love for you over and over again
☆ lee jeno
he’s very quick, rough and fast with you 90% of the time. it’s what you want and love.
you have a very adventurous sex life, he’s a hard dom and the sex always has you curling your toes and screaming his name
rips your clothes/lingerie off, is able to unhook your bra with his teeth, it’s very hot
pounds into your pussy, flush against flush, hits your g-spot over and over again
his cock is so big and he knows it
loves when you squirt all over his cock or his face, drinks your cum like it’s water
paints patterns on your skin with your cum
fucks all your cum back into you, also loves cumming inside of you, won’t stop until your walls are filled with cum, wants to a fuck a baby info you, major breeding kink
loves looking down to see where you connect, grunts when he moves his cock away from your hole post orgasm, seeing all the juices and cum slick up
loves seeing you cry, dacryphilia, loves when you beg him and tell him it’s too much and that you can’t take it anymore
he shakes his head. you’ve already cummed so many times but he wipes away your tears, telling you to be his good girl
loves looking down at you and seeing how tiny your hole is, definitely a size kink thing, loves your tight pussy that makes enough room for his massive cock.
always reassures you that your pussy and his cock were made for each other, so when you cry that you can’t take his cock or that it’s too big he shakes his head and tells you it will fit
loves pinning you down, loves manhandling you, loves trapping your arms and locking them above your head, loves choking you, loves slapping your pussy and cheek
spits on your pussy and in your mouth, he does it with no warning, you’re his cum slut, he can do whatever he wants to you and you oblige with a grin
he loves eating you out, kisses your pussy and always tell you how in love he is with you and your pussy
eats you out like a starved man
loves being in between your thighs, licking a long stripe of his tongue against your clit, lapping and sucking until you’re screaming his name and come undone on his tongue
also loves when you sit on his face, your thighs either side of his head as he closes you in, hands kneading your thighs and he eats you out, lapping as you fuck his face, thrusting up and down
can be so mean to you in bed when you’ve pissed him off or just because he wants to
ties your arms and legs up so you can’t touch him as he fucks you dumb, orgasm over orgasm, leaves hickies all over your body without care for who’s going to see them
his hand tightens around your neck so easily, it’s second nature for him to apply pressure with his fingers and metal rings and choke you
bottoms you out and doesn’t move when you’ve really pissed him off
loves spanking and slapping you, it’s all consensual of course, loves to take his anger out on you, his hands will just naturally find your ass and slap you as you ride him, titties bouncing over his face as he slaps you boobs or your cheek
can and will fuck you anywhere, finds you leaning against the desk on your phone? he’s coming up behind you, pressing his back against you and whispering filth in your ear, bulge pressing hard against your ass as he lifts your dress up and fucks you from behind,
rare and occasional moments of a soft dom jeno, happens mostly when you ride him, in his car, a chair or his bed. wraps his arms around you to bring you as humanly close to him as possible, you mould into one, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you on his cock when he feels your climax is high because he knows you can hold on, he wants to cum with you, in you
constant praises “you’re so pretty” “so beautiful” “you’re mine” “your tight little cunt is all mine” “i love you so fucking much” “you’re my world”
aftercare is always the sweetest whether he was a hard dom or soft dom
always has a bath with you even when you’re tired and begging to sleep. “just stay awake for me, ok? 10 more minutes than i’ll cuddle you and hold you all night long”
massages your skin thoroughly, holds you tightly and applies your favourite scents all over your body, smirking when his fingers softly massage your folds, tutting and telling you no with a nod of his head when you whine and try to move his fingers away from your sensitive spot
☆ lee donghyuck
bratty switch
he is so whiny and needy, you’ve gotten used to him begging for your attention
always touching you, if it’s non sexual, a light hand on the back, kneading your stomach, massaging your shoulders, then don’t worry because it will always end up sexual
light slaps of your ass, massaging your boobs, finger circling your nipple
such a tease, will lap at your cunt and eat you out until you’re panting his name heavily but will stop his movements the second you clench, when he can feel you’re about to cum
loves edging you on, loves your frustrated moans and whimpers, loves when you pull on his hair with force, loves when you slap him or spit on him
loves fucking your boobs, loves when you sit on his face, just wants his vision to be suffocated by your ass or your tits
loves size training with you, will start with his fingers and coo when you shake your head and say it’s too big “how will your pretty, tight little cunt take my cock then?”
thrusts his fingers in and out, adding more when he pleases, stretching you out for him
you cry when his tip enters you, already crying that he’s too big for you but he makes you believe that he will always fit in you, your cunt is made for him
loves throwing you in all different positions, loves missionary when he’s feeling like making love to you, loves doggy when he wants to feel all of you and get the most control, loves when you’re on too too, he loves begging for you, calling you mummy as you slap him and take the lead
loves when you choke him, tying him up, you love slowing your rise and fall on his cock when he’s being bratty and begging too much for it
he fucks you so deep, filling every inch of your walls and hitting your g-spot tighter when you wrap your legs around his waist or shoulders, he starts to cry when you’re both close to cumming
he’s very messy, cum, spit and drool is everywhere. your makeup is smudged and the two of you are sore all over due to using each other to let out your built up frustrations
aftercare is about mutual care and looking after each other, the two of you cuddle, wipe each other clean and massage each others limbs, sometimes you’re too lazy to go and have a bath so he always keeps wipes near the bed
☆ na jaemin
whether he’s angry at you or simply wants to make love to you until the two of you become one, he always starts off gentle and soft
affection in his eyes and touch, gentle hands as he takes off your panties or lingerie, covering your body in kisses and praises “you’re so beautiful, baby” “so pretty for me”
massages your limbs, gets you prepared for him breaking your bones and bending you in ways your body has never moved in before
he always has such a cheeky and annoying smile on his face, the same smile when he tells you he loves you and that you’re his pretty baby and the same smile when you’re begging and crying underneath him, tears welling up in your eyes as you’re begging him to touch you instead of teasing you
loves cumming inside of you, painting your walls and the feeling of your liquids and juices combining and mixing, he wants to fuck a baby into you
into foreplay and will make you cum by his tongue atleast twice before slamming his cock into you but when you’re both in a rush, you waste no time
your walls stretch for him and the two of you just stay like that for a while, breathing and panting heavily, looking into each other’s eyes, looking down with a moan to see where you’ve become one
he’ll call you his “pretty girl” “good girl” “you always take me so well” before he slams his hips against yours, flush against flush as he fucks you so deeply, fucking into your wet pussy and driving his cock so fast into you
creampie, loves filling you with cum to the point where it leaks out, “it’s too much for your tiny and pretty cunt? awww….”
loves when you’re loud, whispers in your ear that you’re not being loud because he wants you to be louder, he wants people to hear you moan his name and how good he’s making you feel
will definitely tut when you clench around him
spanks you as he fucks you, the feeling of your thighs meeting his making him moan your name over and over again
he’s so soft with you, he loves looking into your eyes and telling you how much he loves you
he loves running his fingertips over every inch of your skin softly, replacing his fingers with his lips, making sure every inch of you feels beautiful, it’s one thing when he calls you beautiful but he truly makes you feel it too
doesn’t ever break eye contact with you, shakes his head when you try to cover your face with your hands or hide into his neck
loves marking you and isn’t unapologetic about it, loves to show you off and show everyone that you’re his, the marks all over your neck and proof, only he can touch you like this
“pretty little cunt made for me” “look so beautiful like this baby” he truly believes that his cock and your pussy were made for each other, that they’re only complete when he’s fucking into your tight little hole
#jeno smut#jeno x reader#jeno fluff#nct jeno#nct dream jeno#jeno#nct#nct 127#nct dream#jeno imagines#mark lee angst#mark lee x reader#mark lee smut#mark lee#nct jaemin angst#jaemin x reader#nct jaemin smut#nct jaemin#jaemin smut#jaemin#haechan x reader#haechan smut#nct haechan#nct haechan smut#renjun smut#renjun#nct reactions#nct smut#nct x reader#— nct written reactions
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TWTHH Spinoff: Try Again [2]
Pairing: assistant!Jongho x new maid!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 7.6k
Summary: Among the many staff members at General Park's estate, Jongho stood out for his dedication, leaving no room for personal indulgence. Convinced that love and marriage would detract from his commitment to serving the general, he had resigned himself to a life of solitude. But his conviction was challenged with the arrival of an annoyingly perfect Miss Kwon, a new maid whose kindness and efficiency began to make him rethink his life choices.
Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist
"Ugh, he's such an idiot," Seonghwa mumbled, rubbing a frustrated hand against his temple as he entered the House of Lotus that night. His wife smirked from her position on the bed. "Yeah, reminds me of you. Men become utter fools when they develop feelings for someone."
He pouted, shedding the outer layer of his hanbok before carefully joining her on the bed, mindful of her round belly. "Am not," he argued, but she raised a challenging brow. "Are too." He huffed but pulled her close regardless. "Am not."
She glared up at him. "Are too, General Park. You're being one right now." He couldn't resist the grin creeping onto his face at how adorable she was, despite being about to become a mother. "Yes, my love. You're always right. I'm just messing with you, you know that." She stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "That's more like it," she said, melting into her husband's warm embrace.
"Let him be, Hwa. I know you're frustrated, but he's at a stage where nothing you say will get through. He'll learn on his own eventually." He nodded in defeat, sighing when she pressed her lips against his jaw.
"Now, let us sleep."
"Yes, ma'am."
On the other side of the estate, you lay awake in bed, the events of the afternoon replaying in your mind like a broken record. You tried to reevaluate your priorities here, but one memory stood out starkly.
"Don't think, Miss Kwon. Just do your job and leave me alone. And it's Assistant Choi to you."
Those words pierced your heart more deeply than he would ever know. After all those moments and progress, were you a fool to believe you were finally on good terms? Was it naive to assume you were now… friends? A small, hopeful part of you even dared to wish for something more.
But now, you understand.
You had grown up a people pleaser all your life. And if leaving Jongho alone was what he truly wanted, you would grant him your absence. The last thing you ever wanted was to be a bother or annoyance to anyone. You had tried your best, but even a saint has their limits, and you had reached yours.
Feeling a profound sense of betrayal, you replayed his harsh words over and over in your mind. Each repetition cut deeper, shattering the fragile hope you had nurtured. You had seen glimpses of a softer side in the assistant, moments where his stern exterior seemed to crack. Those moments had given you hope—hope that there was more to your relationship than a mere formality. But now, it was clear that those glimpses were just that—brief and fleeting.
You had spent your life striving to make others happy, always going the extra mile to please those around you, to earn their approval and affection. It was in your nature to help, to support, to be there for others. But now, faced with his cold rejection, you were once again reminded that sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it will never be enough. The weight of his words pressed down on you, and the sting of rejection was almost unbearable.
It was just like with my parents…
Determined to respect his wishes, you resolved to distance yourself from him. It wasn't easy. Every interaction, every shared moment, had left an indelible mark on your heart. But you had to protect yourself, to preserve whatever dignity you had left. You would focus on your duties, keeping your head down and your heart guarded.
As you moved through your days, you couldn't help but feel a profound sadness. You missed the camaraderie you thought you had built, the unspoken connection you felt. Yet, you reminded yourself that you deserved to be around people who appreciated you and valued your presence. If Jongho wanted distance, you would give it to him, even if it broke your heart in the process.
The assistant had initially been grateful that you had listened and left him alone. He remembered tensing up the first time he saw you after he had told you off so rudely the other day. He breathed a sigh of relief when you only nodded politely in acknowledgement before walking the other way. But as days passed, it became hard not to notice how you were beginning to avoid him like he had first done to you. Whenever he tried to speak to you regarding work, you would dismiss him and redirect him to someone else.
Today was another one of those days.
He straightened up, noticing you heading his way. He cleared his throat, trying to act as nonchalant as possible as he stepped in front of you, intentionally blocking your path.
"Miss Kwon, I'd hate to trouble you, but I'm going to need you to—"
You sighed, bowing. "Apologies, Assistant Choi, but I have more than enough on my plate as it is. If this does not concern maternity or relate to the mistress in any way, please seek assistance from someone else." Without waiting for his response, you walked away.
He blinked in surprise as he watched you go. The indifference in your voice and the quick dismissal stung more than he cared to admit. It was a stark contrast to the warmth and eagerness you had once shown him. His initial relief turned into an uncomfortable realisation that your absence, your avoidance, was affecting him more than he had anticipated.
Whatever, it's better this way.
Jongho tried to convince himself, but it was no use. This treatment affected him more than he liked to admit, yet his stubbornness prevented him from addressing it. Out of spite, he became even meaner to you, thinking that maintaining a cold front would help him regain control.
One day, as he passed by the House of Lotus, he saw you tidying up Lady Park's pavilion, now cluttered with various items. When you felt his gaze, you turned and found him staring. Flustered, he huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd be careful not to break anything if I were you. Every single item here is worth more than you ever will be." He cursed himself internally after uttering those words, wondering why he had to be so cruel. His fists clenched in regret when you let out a shaky breath and nodded obediently.
"I am aware, Assistant Choi. Please do not worry; I will treat them with the utmost care."
Why didn't you fight back? he wondered. The way you did when he had questioned you and your skills before? He hated that you were giving him minimal reactions, as if speaking to him would kill you. The realisation hit him hard—he was the hypocrite, condemning your distance when he had been the one to push you away.
Jongho's frustration mounted as he realised that your avoidance was cutting deeper than he had anticipated. Despite his best efforts to distance himself from you, each time you turned away, it stirred a pang of regret within him. At the thought, he found himself arranging the books in the general's study with more force than usual.
"Woah, any harder and you'll have to replace them all with new ones. I'm not sure your salary can cover that expense, Jongho. What's gotten your panties in a knot?" Seonghwa's sudden appearance beside him startled the assistant into a cough and a bow.
In truth, the younger man struggled to pinpoint the source of his frustration—whether it was directed at himself, you, or both. He knew he had no right to be angry with you; after all, you had only done exactly what he asked. It was a constant war between his mind and heart, and he was sick of it.
"Nothing, sir. Just a bit... overwhelmed with work," he lied, avoiding the general's knowing gaze.
Seonghwa sighed, crossing his arms. "You know, you're a terrible liar. This wouldn't have anything to do with Miss Kwon, would it?"
Jongho's silence spoke volumes. He continued to arrange the books, each movement more agitated than the last. "It's just... she's avoiding me," he finally admitted, his voice laced with frustration.
"Isn't that what you wanted?" Seonghwa asked, raising an eyebrow.
The younger man clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "I thought it was. But now... I don't know."
"Maybe you should figure out what you really want before you destroy everything around you," General Park advised, his tone gentle but firm. "Including your own peace of mind."
He nodded slowly, the weight of his employer's words sinking in. He realised he needed to stop this war within himself. The constant push and pull were tearing him apart, and he couldn't bear it any longer.
That night, the general returned to his wife's side with a triumphant grin. "Things between those two will be fine now. Just you wait, my love." Lady Park shook her head. "Are you sure? I wouldn't be so optimistic if I were you."
And once again, her intuition proved correct.
Despite Jongho's desire to mend the rift between you, his pride and reluctance eventually held him back. Much to Seonghwa's disappointment, nothing changed. The silent war between Assistant Choi and the new maid persisted, casting a palpable tension over the household, noticed by nearly everyone.
Eunsook sighed heavily as she noticed the usually alert assistant zoning out for what felt like the thousandth time during their weekly inventory check. "What's bothering you, Jongho-yah? You know you can talk to me, right?" the elderly woman asked gently.
The general's aide finally snapped out of his trance, his eyes drifting away from the window where you had been standing moments ago, discussing herbs for the mistress' tonic with another maid.
"I…" He hesitated, tempted to confide in her. Eunsook had been like a mother to him throughout his employment here. But he shook his head, recognising how unprofessional discussing personal matters during work hours would be. More importantly, his pride stood in the way. Admitting his feelings would make them real and expose his vulnerability. He was Choi Jongho, after all. The last thing he needed was to be seen as a lovesick fool.
With a firm shake of his head, he forced a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Eunsook. Maybe just a bit tired, nothing a good night's sleep can't fix. I'll rest earlier tonight, don't worry."
She shook her head in disbelief as she watched the stubborn young man return to work, his usual mask of nonchalance firmly back in place. She could see the turmoil beneath his facade, but he was determined to keep it hidden, even from himself.
These kids are hopeless, I swear...
"Good job, everyone. Go and get some rest for the night." The assistant nodded approvingly at the completed tasks for the day and dismissed the group of estate staff assigned under him.
He watched as the servants dispersed, heading towards their respective quarters. Giving the tidy inventory one last look, he dusted off his hands in satisfaction and began walking towards his own room, ready to retire for the night. All he could think about was the comfort of his mattress. He couldn’t wait to lie down and forget about everything, especially you. Thoughts of you had been making him restless, and he truly loathed it. He chastised himself for being caught by Eunsook earlier. This was bad, and he couldn't keep letting you affect him this way.
As if the world were adamant about ruining his plans, your familiar petite frame appeared in his vision. You were hunched over a basin, scrubbing one of the mistress' hanboks clean. What in the world were you doing out here in the cold of the night? Everyone else was either heading to bed or already asleep. And here you were, performing a chore that could very well make you sick in this weather.
He took a hesitant step towards you, wanting to lecture you, but then stepped back, remembering how awkward things were between you now. Yet, he didn't have the heart to walk away. With a huff, he pushed himself to approach you.
"Miss Kwon, shouldn't this be a task done during the day? Just because you're out here late doesn't mean you're hardworking. If anything, it shows you can't finish your tasks on time during work hours." He mentally cursed himself for always letting such harsh words slip, as if showing that he cared was such a horrendous thing.
You halted your actions momentarily at the sound of his voice before continuing. "Good evening, Assistant Choi," you said, turning slightly to eye him from the corner of your eye, not granting him the pleasure of your full attention. "I understand what you mean, but I hope you also understand that a heavily pregnant woman like the mistress might not always have full control of her bladder like the rest of us and that unplanned mishaps can happen. Do you suppose I should leave the lady in her wet garments? Is it wrong that I am getting things done on my own time? Please do not let me stop you from getting your rest. I am fully capable of managing my own time. Thank you very much. Now, if you'll excuse me," you answered firmly, not paying him any more mind.
Jongho stood there, feeling a mix of frustration and regret. He hated the way he spoke to you, but he couldn't seem to help it. Watching you continue your task, he realised that your dedication and resilience only made him admire you more, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. "Fine."
If he thought that would be the last time he found you out late, he was sorely mistaken. Over the next few days, he noticed a troubling pattern: you were working harder than ever, often staying up late to complete various chores long after the mistress had gone to bed. As if that wasn't concerning enough, you were already up and working by the time he started his day, which was unusually early. He began to wonder if you were getting any rest at all.
Despite his stubbornness, the assistant couldn't help but worry about your well-being. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the way you sometimes swayed on your feet from exhaustion and the quiet determination in your every movement. It bothered him more than he would like to admit, but he refused to acknowledge that he cared. The thought of you overworking yourself began to weigh heavily on his mind.
One evening, he stood by the window of the general's study, watching as you meticulously swept the courtyard. The sun had long set, and the estate was bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to go out there and tell you to stop. But his pride kept him rooted in place.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why does she have to be so damn stubborn?" he muttered to himself.
Just then, the head maid entered the room with a tray of tea. She set it down on the desk and looked at him with a knowing expression. "Still worrying about her?"
Jongho stiffened, then tried to play it off with a nonchalant shrug. "I'm not worrying, Eunsook. It's just… She's working too hard. It's not good for her."
The elderly woman raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying his act. "You know, Jongho-yah, it's okay to care about someone. Even if it's hard to admit."
He scoffed, turning away from the window. "I'm not admitting anything. She's just… being reckless."
Eunsook shook her head with a soft chuckle. "You can keep telling yourself that, but everyone can see it. Just don't wait too long to do something about it."
As she left the room, Jongho's gaze drifted back to you. He knew she was right, but his pride and fear of vulnerability kept him silent. Yet, with each passing day, the thought of you overworking yourself increasingly bothered him, threatening to break through the walls he had built around his heart.
About to retire for the night, the assistant once again spotted you still busy at work. Tonight, you were by the furnace outside the House of Lotus, burning coals in an attempt to keep the mistress warm during the relentless cold weather. What an idiot, he thought to himself as he carefully approached you, not wanting to alert you to his presence. Here you were, busy keeping the lady warm while putting yourself in the cold. You were going to fall sick at this rate. He was amazed that you weren't already ill with the constant work and little rest you'd been getting lately.
He let out a small sigh of relief when he was close enough to see your head propped up on your fist, your elbow resting on your knee, your eyes closed. "You stubborn girl," he whispered to himself, feeling his heart ache as he observed the callouses on your free hand and the bags under your eyes. Your lips were dry and chapped, nearly turning blue from sitting out in the cold for god knows how long. He had to fight the urge to pull you close and carry you back to your quarters.
Instead, he sighed and crouched down beside you, lifting a hesitant hand to your face and gently moving a stray strand of hair. Noticing the slight shiver that ran through you, he quickly pulled off the outer layer of his hanbok and draped it around your shaking form. He froze when you seemed to wake up from the sudden warmth enveloping you.
"Hm— what? J-Jongho?" you muttered groggily before realising who was in front of you. Clearing your throat, you shot up from your seat and bowed. "Assistant Choi, wh-what were you…" you trailed off, noticing his outer layer on your shoulders.
Ignoring his disappointment when you corrected yourself and addressed him by his title instead of his name, he avoided your gaze, standing up as well. "Don't overthink it. I may be strict, but I'm not heartless. After all, who would care for the mistress if you fell sick? If you were responsible, you'd take good care of yourself too." He spoke in his usual icy tone, the mask of nonchalance returning as he turned to leave.
"Wait, your—" you started, looking down at the piece of clothing around your frame, but he cut you off.
"Keep it," he said firmly.
As he walked back to his room, he whispered to the wind, hoping it would somehow reach you, "You need it more than I do."
You stared after his retreating figure in confusion. He was so infuriating. If he wanted to be mean, why couldn't he be mean until the end? Why was he always making things more complicated than they should be? He constantly said one thing and did another. Why was he playing with your feelings like this?
You had been trying so hard to push all thoughts of him out of your mind, focusing on nothing but work, keeping yourself busy, and putting him at a distance just as he had wanted. You wanted to show him that you could be just as good at your job as he was—just as hardworking, dedicated, and capable—to prove him wrong about whatever prejudices he might have against you.
And just when you thought you could finally learn to hate him, he would go and do things like this, undoing all your efforts. You sighed, clutching the fabric around you, pulling it close as tears of frustration welled in your eyes. His scent was somehow… comforting.
"Stop doing this to me, Choi Jongho," you whispered to the night, feeling your resolve crumble once again.
The next day, the assistant resumed his work as usual, though his heart raced at the thought of running into you. Would you still be wearing the piece of clothing he had given you? Or had you already cleaned it and left it on his doorstep? The latter seemed more likely. He couldn't understand his internal dilemma: on the one hand, it felt oddly satisfying to imagine you walking around with his robe draped over you, as if you were his. On the other hand, he wanted to smack himself sober for having these mind-boggling thoughts. He was stuck between wanting to see you in it and knowing the impropriety of it all.
In his constant efforts to both avoid and keep an eye out for you, half the day had gone by, and he began to realise that you had been nowhere in sight the entire time. He told himself not to overthink it, but his mind raced with possibilities of where you could be, trying to regulate the escalating unease he felt.
While he could have simply asked around, he refused to inquire about your whereabouts, prioritising his pride over his concern. Yet, secretly, he was going insane with worry.
As he moved through his tasks, his frustration grew. Every room he entered, every corridor he walked down, he found himself hoping to catch a glimpse of you. The absence of your presence gnawed at him more than he cared to admit.
By the time the sun began to set, his anxiety had reached its peak. The thought of something happening to you while he stubbornly refused to show concern made him feel a pang of guilt. He clenched his fists, battling the urge to ask someone where you were.
Instead of carrying out his tasks, Jongho ended up spending nearly the entire day searching the estate for you. Every corner, every room, every possible hiding place—he checked them all, growing more distressed with each passing moment.
Where could she have possibly gone?
After what felt like an eternity, he finally found you alone in the Cold Palace. Your figure was hunched, and his heart clenched when he realised you were crying on one of the steps leading up to the vacant chambers. His heart picked up its speed again when he spotted his robe neatly folded beside you. So, you kept it. It was apparent you had come here for privacy, given that this place had been as good as abandoned ever since the mistress moved out.
A part of him told himself he was intruding on a personal moment and that he should leave you be now that he knew you were safe. But the bigger part of him couldn't take it anymore. He wanted— no, needed to know you were okay.
Annoyed yet concerned, Jongho moved to sit down beside you, his presence startling you slightly. "What's making you cry?" he asked, his tone a mix of irritation and genuine concern.
"Assistant Choi?" Blinking rapidly, you shook your head. "I-I'm fine..."
His stern gaze silenced you. "Just be honest with me… please."
You wiped your tears, taking a deep breath before responding. "Fine, if you insist. I'm just… I'm tired of constantly feeling as though I will never be enough for anyone and everyone. You think you're the only one who fought hard to get where you are?" you began, your voice trembling with emotion. "I've struggled, too. I've given everything to prove myself, to show that I'm just as capable, just as dedicated. You have no right to judge me or mistreat me."
The assistant's heart sank with each word. He had hoped, in some twisted way, that your tears were because of him, a testament to his impact on your life. But hearing your frustration, your own story of perseverance, shattered that notion.
When you finished, you stood up, ready to leave. But against his better judgement, he gently pulled you back, his mind racing for the right words. All his usual defences, his pride and stubbornness, seemed meaningless at this moment.
"I... I'm sorry," he muttered softly, his voice barely audible.
You looked at him, surprised by his uncharacteristic vulnerability. For a moment, the air between you was heavy with unspoken emotions. Jongho, struggling to find more words, simply held your gaze, hoping his apology was enough to convey his regret.
At those unexpected words, your tears flowed again as you allowed him to gently guide you back into the seat beside him. The chill of the air was gradually replaced by warmth as he once again draped his robe over your shoulders. He didn't say another word, but his actions spoke volumes, conveying his sincerity. This unexpected kindness only made you cry harder.
He moved closer until your shoulders touched, his presence a silent reassurance that you weren't alone. The two of you spent the rest of the evening sitting next to each other in silence. Though he could have left after offering his apology, he realised he didn't want to. There was an unspoken bond forming between you, a quiet understanding that both of you needed.
As the stars began to dot the sky, the silence between you became more comfortable, almost intimate. He felt a sense of peace he hadn't felt in a long time. He glanced at you, noticing the way your breathing had evened out, your tears finally subsiding.
"I'm sorry," he repeated softly, feeling the need to say it again.
You nodded, leaning slightly into his warmth, feeling a strange sense of relief. "Thank you," you whispered, grateful for his sincerity.
The two of you remained there, side by side, the Cold Palace no longer feeling so cold with the shared warmth of understanding and newfound camaraderie. The quiet intimacy of the moment made your hearts flutter, the connection between you deepening with each passing second.
The next day, Jongho eagerly looked forward to seeing you again. However, as he made his rounds, his anticipation turned to confusion and panic when he couldn't find you anywhere again, not even the Cold Palace. None of the servants had any answers for him, claiming not to know where you had gone.
Desperate for answers, he sought out the general, the head maid, and the mistress. Each of them gave him the same response: "She left, Jongho. She's gone home."
She... left? But why?
Panic gripped him. Hadn't everything been resolved after the previous night? He couldn't understand what was happening. He clearly recalled escorting you back to your quarters after a pleasant stop by the kitchen, where you treated yourselves to some leftover dishes from dinner. There had been laughter, shared stories, and a genuine connection. You had shyly handed his robe back to him at the end of the night, but he had insisted you keep it. Things were going well, weren't they? So, what went wrong?
His mind raced with questions. For once, he wasn't worried about the consequences Seonghwa mentioned he would face if you quit. All he could think about was why you had left and where you had gone. Was last night a goodbye? Why exactly were you crying? There had to be more to it, right?
He needed answers.
Holy crap, he needed you.
As he stood in the empty courtyard, grappling with his mounting frustration and confusion, the general approached, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Jongho...? You okay, buddy?"
The question snapped the assistant from his spiralling thoughts. He turned to face his employer, his face a mask of desperation and determination. The weight of the revelation that you had left, combined with the realisation of how deeply he had come to care for you, pushed him to the brink.
With a sudden surge of emotion, Jongho blurted out, "I need to know where she lives. I need her address—now!"
General Park's eyes widened in surprise. The head maid and the mistress exchanged concerned glances, their expressions reflecting the unexpected turn of events. His outburst revealed a side of him they had rarely seen—a side filled with raw vulnerability and an intensity that spoke of deep feelings.
"You... you were right, I can't be without her," he continued, his voice trembling with a mix of frustration and resolve. "I didn't realise how much she meant to me until she was gone. I thought I could handle it, but I can't. I need to bring her back."
Took you long enough, you prideful idiot.
Seonghwa's hand remained on his shoulder, a silent gesture of support. The assistant's declaration of his feelings, so raw and exposed, left him feeling both embarrassed and liberated. He knew now that his emotions were undeniable, and he was willing to face whatever consequences lay ahead to be with you again.
Eunsook stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. "Jongho, are you sure about this? It's a long journey, and things might not be as simple as you think. Miss Kwon, she was uh... she seemed very troubled."
Jongho nodded, his eyes determined. "Then that's all the more reason for me to be there for her. I've never been more certain of anything in my life. I can't let her think that I don't care. I need to see her, to explain… to fix whatever I messed up."
The lady, witnessing his resolve, stepped in with a sympathetic smile. "Very well. We'll get you the address. But remember, you must be honest with her. Be clear about your feelings. No more saying things you don't mean."
He nodded firmly and took a deep breath, the weight of his decision settling in. He felt a rush of relief and fear, knowing that he was about to embark on a journey to find you and make things right. He had come to understand that his feelings for you were more than just fleeting emotions—they were real, and they mattered deeply.
As the information was given to him, the assistant clutched the piece of paper tightly, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anxiety. He turned to Seonghwa, Eunsook, and the mistress, offering them a sincere thank you.
"I'll make sure she knows how much she means to me," Jongho said with resolve. "Thank you for your understanding."
With that, he set off, ready to face the world and do whatever it took to bring you back. The journey ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: he was no longer just an assistant doing his job—he was a man determined to fight for the love he had finally come to recognise.
Your heart felt heavy as you stepped out of the carriage, staring up at the estate you once called home, though it had never truly felt like one. No matter how many people filled its halls, it always remained a cold place, devoid of the warmth you craved. And yet, here you were again, returning after years away. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before entering the Kwon household for the first time in forever.
As you walked through the entrance, the servants bowed in recognition of your presence. "Welcome back, young miss," they murmured. You nodded emotionlessly, your eyes fixed on the altar straight ahead, which held the painting of a person whose affection you had fought hard to earn but never received.
Your brothers turned as your presence was announced. The second eldest furrowed his brows, a sneer forming on his lips. "Well, well, look who finally decides to show up? And here I was thinking Miss Ungrateful would never step foot in this house again. I'm afraid it's a little late to return, little sister. Mother's already dea—"
The eldest grabbed his arm, stopping him from finishing the sentence. "That's enough. Don't start anything. Show some respect. Mother would not want this."
You stood there, feeling a mix of sorrow and resentment. The coldness of the house and the harshness of your brother's words only served to remind you of why you had left in the first place. Yet, as you looked at the painting of the late Lady Kwon, you couldn't help but feel a pang of grief. Despite everything, a part of you had always hoped for reconciliation, for a family that would accept and love you.
Swallowing your emotions, you stepped forward, trying to find your voice. "I came to pay my respects," you said softly, your tone measured and controlled. "Whatever differences we had, she was still my mother."
The second eldest scoffed but remained silent, his gaze shifting away from you. You took another step closer to the altar, feeling the weight of the past and the unresolved emotions pressing down on you. It was difficult to be here, but you knew you had to face it, if not for your own sake, then for the memory of the woman whose portrait now watched over you.
As you stood there, the silence was heavy, filled with unspoken words and buried feelings. Your heart ached, but you remained resolute, determined to find closure in this place that had once been so unforgiving.
You settled on your knees before the altar, the flickering candlelight casting gentle shadows across your face. After lighting your own incense stick, you carefully placed it in the holder before your mother's resting place. Lowering your head, you clasped your hands together, the scent of the burning incense mingling with the bittersweet memories that flooded your mind.
The past few days had been a tumultuous sea of emotions. Upon receiving word of your mother's passing, you had been overwhelmed, retreating to the solitude of the Cold Palace to grapple with your feelings. The cold and empty chambers mirrored your own inner turmoil as you wrestled with the decision of whether or not to return to the place that had caused you so much pain.
As you knelt there, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, thoughts of a certain general's assistant suddenly entered your mind. The memory of his comforting presence the night before, his robe draped around your shoulders, and the sincerity in his voice as he apologised, filled your heart with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the coldness of your surroundings.
I wish you were here, Choi Jongho...
His steady presence, his silent strength—it would have been a balm to your aching soul. You longed for his reassuring touch, his quiet support. The thought of him brought a small measure of comfort amidst the sorrow.
Blinking back tears, you whispered a silent prayer, seeking peace and closure. You hoped that, somehow, your mother could hear you and understand the complex emotions you harboured. Despite the years of distance and the unresolved pain, you wished for forgiveness and reconciliation, even if it was now too late.
You took a deep breath, lifting your head to gaze at the portrait before you. "Mother," you whispered, your voice trembling, "I hope you find peace. I hope you know that despite everything, I loved you. And I hope… I hope you can forgive me."
The room was silent, the air thick with the scent of incense and the weight of unspoken words. You remained kneeling, feeling the presence of your elder brothers behind you, the tension still palpable. But in that moment, you felt a small sense of release, as if a part of the burden you had carried for so long had been lifted.
As you rose to your feet and turned, your breath hitched at the sight of your father standing there, your younger brothers by his side. His presence was imposing, yet there was something different in his eyes—a softness you hadn't seen before.
"You're really here… I didn't believe them when they told me you came," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.
You gulped and bowed deeply. "Yes, I've come, Father."
To your surprise, he broke into a smile, a genuine expression of warmth that took you aback. "Come, my dear, let us have some tea and catch up."
Your heart warmed at the semblance of pleasure on his face. Was he glad you returned? Could he have… regretted not treating you better after you left? The questions swirled in your mind, but the hint of hope blossomed in your chest.
The eldest gave you an encouraging nod. You took a deep breath and followed your father to the living hall, your footsteps echoing softly in the spacious corridors of the house where you spent your childhood.
The living hall was just as you remembered—lavishly decorated yet exuding a cold elegance. But today, the atmosphere felt different, almost welcoming. The elderly man gestured for you to sit, and soon a servant brought in a tray with a steaming teapot and delicate porcelain cups.
As the tea was poured, your father looked at you with a mixture of pride and regret. "I've been thinking, and I believe it's time for you to move back home," he said, his voice steady but with an undertone that made your blood run cold. "You don't have to work so hard anymore. I heard you're out there working as some servant to General Park. You're a lady from House Kwon; you can do so much better. I have a list of marriage candidates that could guarantee you a lavish life, my daughter."
In that moment, the warmth you had felt earlier was sucked out of your being. You should have known better than to believe he genuinely wanted you back for the sake of family. You saw through his motives right away. He only saw a use for you now—to marry and establish another powerful connection for his family. That was all you were ever good for in his eyes.
Your heart sank, and the chill of disappointment wrapped around you. "I see," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The tea, which moments ago had brought comfort, now tasted like ash in your mouth. "So that's why you want me back."
He frowned, clearly not expecting your reaction. "You misunderstand, my daughter. I only want what's best for you."
You stood, feeling a surge of defiance. "No, you want what's best for you and this house. But I am not a tool for your ambitions."
"That's right because she is so much more than that." You gasped, whipping around to find Jongho standing there, a confident grin on his face. "And Lord Kwon, this young lady is far more than just a mere servant for General Park. In case your informant wasn't thorough enough, she is a renowned obstetrician recommended by noblewomen all around Joseon. She is now a valued and cherished member of the Park household. So, it would be great if you could show her the respect she deserves."
Your father narrowed his eyes at the uninvited guest, standing up. "And who the hell are you? Her little secret admirer?"
Before you could turn to defend the assistant, Jongho stepped forward, his voice steady and unyielding. "If you must know, I'm Choi Jongho, General Park's most trusted aide and only assistant. And yes, I am also Miss Kwon's secret admirer, but I don't need your permission to court her. I've come to ask for hers, not yours."
Your jaw dropped as you stared at him with wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. Was this a confession?
With a final, stern glare, he took a step forward, placing his arm protectively around you, just as he had when you went to the market. "Now, if we're done here, Lord Kwon, I will be escorting the lady back to where she truly belongs, far away from here."
You let him lead you away, the shock slowly giving way to a warm, comforting certainty. For the first time in a long while, you felt valued, seen, and cared for. As you walked away from the place that never truly felt like home, you glanced up at Jongho, grateful for his unexpected presence and the boldness of his words.
"So, you're my secret admirer, huh?" you teased, biting your lip as you watched the assistant's face flush with a deep, embarrassed red. He blinked rapidly, trying to regain his composure, and straightened in his seat across from you in the carriage.
"Yes, well… I suppose I am," the usually composed assistant stammered, his hands fidgeting nervously. "And I need to apologise for all the times I was mean to you."
You tilted your head, intrigued. "Oh? And why were you so mean to me, Assistant Choi?"
Jongho sighed deeply, his gaze falling to his lap. "I didn't mean any of it. I was bitter because I thought it was unfair that you seemed to have it easy while I had to work so hard. But now… now I see how hard you work and how much you deserve every bit of recognition you get. And your family, if you can even call them that— I... I was wrong about everything, and I'm truly sorry."
His eyes met yours, brimming with genuine regret and admiration. "Most importantly, I've come to realise how much I admire you and how much I enjoy being around you. It's been hard, and I have no one to blame but myself for pretending I didn't want to hold you close, feeling foolish for pushing you away when all I wanted was to be by your side."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his heartfelt words. "And that was why, when I found out you were gone, I had to get you back. I can't lose you without having you know how I feel. I promise that this time, you'll never have another reason to return to the Kwon estate. You'll always have a home here with us… with me."
You blinked, slightly confused. "As sweet as that is… you do know I was planning to return to the general's estate the next day, right?"
He went speechless, his eyes widening in surprise. "Y-you were…?"
You nodded. "Yeah, I was just going to attend the funeral. Besides, who would care for the mistress if I was gone? I promised I'd help her through it, and I intend to. Didn't Eunsook or the general tell you that?"
Jongho shook his head, a mix of relief and frustration washing over him. He silently cursed Seonghwa, his wife, and Eunsook for making him look like a fool.
You sighed, a light laugh escaping your lips. "And here I was, worried that the lady's water might have broken because of how suddenly you appeared to take me back."
He softened, a sheepish grin slowly replacing his earlier tension. "Well, I guess that makes me look a bit like an idiot. But I'm glad I could finally be honest with you and with myself. I promise I'll be good to you and make up for all my past mistakes… if you'll let me."
You reached out hesitantly for his hand, then nervously retreated, feeling unsure. But he was quick to hold onto your hand firmly, cradling it against his chest, letting you feel his heart racing for you. Heart fluttering in your chest, you smiled warmly. "Jongho, I never wanted anything more than for you to be honest with me. I forgive you. Let's... let us try again."
His eyes lit up with relief and joy, his grip on your hand tightening with earnestness. "Thank you," he whispered, leaning in slightly. "I won't let you down."
As the carriage continued its journey, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, a new bond beginning to weave itself between you. For the first time, you felt a deep sense of peace, knowing that the future held promise and that you had someone who truly cared by your side.
Arriving back at the general's estate, Seonghwa greeted you both with a teasing smile and a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "Ah, Miss Kwon, you're back a day early!"
Jongho shot the older man a flat, unamused look but couldn't hide the blush and adoration in his eyes as he watched you. You suppressed a laugh, noting the general's knowing grin.
"Yes, sir," you replied with a grateful smile at Jongho. "Assistant Choi was kind enough to bring me back early. Now I should probably get to work—I'm sure the mistress could use my assistance."
Giving his hand a quick, reassuring squeeze, you turned to head towards the House of Lotus. The assistant stood there, rooted to the spot, his gaze following you with a lovesick grin, already missing you.
I can't believe she's really mine...
Observing the scene with amusement, Seonghwa clapped him on the shoulder. "I told you I'd help you find a wife. Perfect, isn't she? Just wait until I tell Miss Kwon all about your speech on how you'd be a terrible husband."
The younger man cleared his throat, irritation on his face. "Sir, need I remind you that you were once just as hopeless as I am?"
Seonghwa fell silent, his smile fading as he remembered his own awkward past.
"Look at you now, all grown up," the general teased. "Now get back to work if you're so free to stand around. It's not a honeymoon until you ask for her hand in marriage, and I expect that to happen soon!"
Jongho's face turned a deep shade of red. He stammered, "Y-yes, sir. I need to, um… get something done."
In a flurry of flustered haste, he dashed off, muttering about urgent tasks. Seonghwa chuckled, watching his dedicated assistant with a sense of satisfaction. It was heartening to see that even the stubborn Jongho had finally found love. General Park couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment, knowing that all his friends had found their own happiness. His thoughts then drifted to a certain fourth prince, wondering how he was faring these days.
Aaand we're finally done with baby bear's love story! Hope it was decent! Are y'all ready for Prince Yeo's spinoff? One last story to go before wrapping up this universe! I am, of course, open to doing more TWTHH bonus content but we'll see hehe~
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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#edenesth#the way to this heart#try again#twthh spinoff#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#choi jongho#ateez jongho#historical au#joseon era#jongho x reader#jongho x you#ateez fic
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tolerate it ꨄ lewis hamilton
lewis hamilton x fem!reader
warnings: age gap (no specific age, just mentioned), angst, no hea
this is just me projecting my sadness with this song onto one of the drivers, lewis being the best option. there's a chance i may do a part 2 to this eventually, but im pretty content with how it ended for now. i hope you enjoy!
It wasn’t always like this.
There was a time when you didn’t wake up, clenching your eyes closed in the hopes that it would magically change the outcome once they opened.
There was a time when you would wake up, Lewis nuzzling his chin into the space where your neck and shoulders collided, peppering the skin with little kisses in the hopes it would wake you from your slumber.
There was a time when you didn’t have to hold your breath, when your eyes didn’t have to adjust to the lack of light in the room, just to get a small glimpse of the man you loved curled up next to you.
It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment when it had all changed. Maybe it was at the beginning of the season, maybe it was before that. You couldn’t really be too sure.
Now, you were lucky to catch a glimpse of him in the morning, lucky to even get the chance to move your eyes across his ink-coloured skin beside you. You were lucky to even get a kiss goodbye in the morning before he left, the sun barely up when he was leaving to go to training, or the factory, or God knows where.
The words between the both of you were minimal nowadays, it was more like living with a roommate you saw occasionally instead of a lover that you were supposed to be sharing a life with.
There was a time when Lewis would giggle as he read the words of his books to you in whatever animated voice he could come up with. There was a time when the art he created was a joint effort between the two of you; now, it felt like all he did was tolerate you.
It was evident neither you, nor Lewis, wanted to touch on the topic. Both of you tiptoed around each other, not wanting to open the door that would push the storm in.
There isn’t much time spent at the paddock anymore, your career becoming the main focus of your priorities. You still welcomed Lewis home after every Grand Prix, his favourite dinner’s packaged in the fridge, the linens cleaned, and his clothes prepped.
A battle hero’s welcome, one could call it.
He always politely thanked you, a gentle kiss to your forehead before he made his way to the office for the remainder of the night. There was a time when he would debrief with you after every race, watching highlight videos on the television while he explained what he did wrong, what he did right, where he could improve and where he got a little too cocky. Now he just did it alone, the door of his office tightly closed, no sound emitting from the room.
Sugarcoating it to your friends and family was difficult. They understood Lewis’ career took center stage, but they couldn’t understand why he was never around when they came to your shared apartment, why it felt like his presence wasn’t even prominent in the home at all.
There was no way to explain it, without sounding naïve, without sounding like you were just letting a relationship that was drowning, pull you down with it.
Everyone suggested different reasons. The season wasn’t going in the way Lewis had hoped. Maybe his age is finally getting to him. Maybe he’s considering retirement and it’s bothering him. Maybe the age difference between the two of you is too much now.
Maybe he’s fallen out of love.
You knew the last one was a significant possibility. Lewis was a private person, but he showed his heart on his shoulder, especially at the beginning. Large declarations of love, obnoxious presents, at first, he wanted you to know that he was in love with you, constantly.
There isn’t a time in the last four months that you can remember where Lewis demonstrated his love for you, quick ‘love you’s’ before the door slammed behind him, a random heart in the middle of the night when he’s halfway across the world; even those had slowly stopped.
Nowadays he would hum silently when you told him you loved him, he would send a heart back if you sent one to him. He didn’t initiate anything, it just simply felt like he was tolerating it when you expressed your love for him.
It wasn’t hard to remember the times when Lewis would tell you how much he loved you, how he would show it.
He would curl up behind you in bed, the unmade sheets wrapped lazily around the two of you as he groaned into your neck, his hands resting around your middle as he eagerly cuddled up to you.
You could always feel him mumbling words into your neck, but he would never tell you what he was saying. Lewis would just smile and press a tiny kiss to your lips, the kiss heating up as time went on, your bodies moving in sync as he demonstrated his love for you in every way he knew how.
You weren’t a self-conscious person, you knew you had plenty to offer when it came to your relationship, and when it came to life in itself. You knew your love should be celebrated, celebrated in the way that Lewis used to celebrate it, the way he used to giggle as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, gently swaying to the music coming from his phone as you cooked together.
You tried to push the negative thoughts away, the thoughts of leaving, of packing up your bags and leaving in the middle of the weekend while he was away. You considered it, time and time again. The suitcases staring at you from the closet, telling you to open them, pack them, and leave.
Every weekend the temptation grew stronger and stronger. The urge to walk away, to preserve your dignity, sat heavy on your shoulders.
Every time when you thought you had decided, thought you had made the decision to pull the dagger out and walk away; an invisible force pulled you back. Told you that the season was slowly coming to its end, that the old Lewis would come back to you when the season was up, he was just stressed out and things were hard.
He never talked about his problems with you. He would debrief with you, sure. He would tell you about the problems in the race, but he would never tell you about his internal problems.
It’s how you constantly justified his behaviour, and his actions... or lack thereof.
Your mind always went back to those thoughts when you considered leaving. It always made you think about the fact that he was probably struggling, that he just wasn’t able to talk to you about it and that you leaving would probably make things worse.
It was the invisible but obvious force, that, you knew.
Lewis didn’t know about these thoughts. At least he never showed that he knew. The bags were always tucked away in the back of the closet when he returned home, like they were never sitting in front of the open door. Everything was back in their rightful place, as if the thought of leaving had never crossed your mind.
One of your favourite moments with him happened just before the beginning of the season. You were cuddled up on the couch, the remnants of a ‘Game of Thrones’ episode playing on the television, Lewis’ hand gently creating shapes on the visible skin of your back.
“Do you ever feel like you’re too old, or like... too wise for me? Like someone closer to your age would be better?”
You felt him huff against your neck, a small laugh falling from his lips before he pressed a kiss to the spot his lips were before shaking his head.
“Are you calling me old, my love?”
Immediately shaking your head with a tiny laugh, you slapped his chest with a gleam in your eyes. “You know what I meant, Lew...”
Rolling you over, he leaned over you as he pushed a lock of his own unruly hair behind his ear. “I rarely think about the fact you’re younger than me. It doesn’t affect the way in which I love you, half the time I forget that you’re younger than me. I definitely don’t think I’m wiser, that’s for sure. It’s pretty obvious who has all the wisdom between the two of us.”
The night ended with you below him, the sheets rustling, as if all the love he had for you could be encaptured in the way his eyes connected with yours. You had never felt that kind of raw love before, had never felt like everything you had done had led to that exact moment.
Trying to convince yourself that everything happening now was all in your mind was easy. The comments that your friends made, that maybe he didn’t love you anymore; was easy enough to ignore when you considered the fact that he did still reply to your messages, that he still came home every Sunday, that he still sometimes pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving in the morning.
But then sometimes you let your mind reel, and reel, and reel. Lewis was there, but was he really there?
The conversation almost happened, after Spa. Lewis was exhausted coming into your shared apartment, his bags dropping down at the front door. You were wrapped up in one of his Mercedes sweaters, his racing number engraved on the sleeves; even if he was there physically and not mentally, you had still made him your everything, you had made him your mural, had dedicated the sky to him.
The pictures on the walls still showed a love between the two of you that wasn’t obvious anymore. The picture of you wrapped around him after the end of the 2020 season. The pictures of the both of you cuddled around each other at his family Christmas, the collage of his nephews wrapped in your arms. There were hundreds of photos that showed how life used to be.
Your mind came back to the present when Lewis crossed the path in front of you.
Like always, he went to press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, the exhaustion prevalent on his face. As he was walking towards his office, you felt the words bubble out of your mouth before you could control them.
“Did you want to watch this with me? I feel like we haven’t really spent much time together lately.”
The words stopped him in his tracks, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as his body turned in your direction. It felt like his face was mocking you with its fake sympathy as he gently shook his head, his curls moving with the direction.
“I’m just too tired. I have to go watch highlights in my office. Maybe later.”
It was always ‘maybe later’, or ‘maybe tomorrow’, or ‘I’m sorry we can’t celebrate our anniversary this year, I just don’t have time this weekend, maybe next weekend’.
It felt like you were begging him for a spot in his life, like you were an inconvenience that he didn’t want to put the effort into anymore. By now, you weren’t even begging for a line in the story, but a line in the footnotes of his life. A minuscule part, something that he couldn’t even try to give you.
Lewis made it clear he felt bad after he bailed on your anniversary. He spent hundreds of dollars on you, basically begging you for forgiveness and emphasizing things would be different soon, he promised.
He was right, things were different. Not in a good way. Maybe that was the point when things really started going downhill. It was still hard to pinpoint it.
Making yourself scarce when Lewis was home was easy. Your friends were always looking for you to go for lunch, or dinner, or out for drinks. Spending your time at work was always an easy escape, allowing the never-ending flow of work to occupy your thoughts as you went above and beyond.
If Lewis noticed that you were avoiding him, avoiding your home; he didn’t say anything. He never said anything.
Spending the weekends at home was therapeutic, your arms wrapped in another one of Lewis’ oversized sweaters. The smell of his cologne wafting up your noise as you pressed the sleeve to your face, the unshed tears refusing to leave your eyes. You wouldn’t cry, not again.
You knew you would cry, again. You always let the tears fall when you scrolled back up in your conversation with Lewis to when things first started, when he was animated, when he overshared, when he sent you photos of George, of Mick, when he forwarded you along videos of Roscoe when Roscoe was away with him.
Back when your love was celebrated, when it didn’t feel like Lewis was just tolerating it, tolerating you, tolerating your love.
Jealousy reared its ugly head every weekend as well. Whenever you saw an Instagram story, or a twitter post, whenever you saw that Lewis was out with his friends, or his team, or his crew. You knew it wasn’t fair to be jealous, that it wasn’t fair to compare yourself to the people that Lewis spent 5/7 days a week with, that it was hard for him to say ‘no’ to them.
It didn’t change how much it hurt, how much it made your heart ache to know that you truly were something that could be put on the backburner. He was always out building other worlds, but where were you?
Where were you every time he was out with his friends after a race? Where were you every time he was celebrating a win, or celebrating a pole in qualifying? Where were you every time he went live on Instagram?
Where was his love for you when you sat looking at the suitcases in the closet, again?
Gone.
It was time to accept the truth, that his love for you was gone. That he didn’t celebrate his love for you like he once did, that he didn’t celebrate you, like he once did.
He tolerated it, and he tolerated you. Tolerating something and celebrating it were too obviously different things. It had never been more evident.
The bags didn’t stare at you anymore as they laid open on the bedroom floor, your clothes finding themselves folded and inside each of them, your portion of the closet emptying out as the bags grew heavier and heavier. The bags under your eyes growing darker alongside them.
You couldn’t leave without saying anything to him, couldn’t allow him to come home to an empty home. It was obvious he didn’t deserve an explanation, and you didn’t plan on giving him one. But he deserved a goodbye.
It was clear the presence of the suitcases registered in Lewis’ mind the moment his eyes found them as the front door closed. He immediately looked at you, the most emotion you’d seen in months shining in his eyes.
“What’s going on?”
The shake in his hands was visible as he asked the question, his own bags falling gently beside your own as he stared at you.
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t beg for a place in your life anymore, Lew. I’m sorry.”
The resignation was evident in his eyes, but there was no fight in them as he sat on the couch opposite you. It almost hurt to know that he wasn’t going to argue, wasn’t going to ask you to stay, to not break free and leave the both of you in ruins. It almost hurt, but you knew it would be the case.
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t try to stop you as you went towards your bags, he didn’t look up from his ink-stained hands as the click of the lock sounded. He didn’t try to say anything more as the suitcases rolled out the door.
You didn’t see the tears gather in his eyes and then fall down his cheeks as the door closed behind you, the longing on his face as he debated with himself internally if he should run after you. Beg you to stay. It was so plain to see now, you were younger, and wiser, and he didn’t deserve you anymore.
Lewis knew the truth. You deserved someone who would celebrate you, celebrate your love. Not someone who could only tolerate it when their own life was falling apart. He didn’t deserve you, not anymore.
i really hope you guys liked this!! im really not too sure if i'll make a part 2, but if there's a lot of demand for one i will. thank you for all the love. also i read this like 4 times so if there's any mistakes im sorry lol
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Overlooked | Part Three
Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: mentions of abuse. allusions to sex
Summary: Y/N and Eris have been happily mated for the past month and he has a preposition for her. However, Y/N receives word from the Night Court to attended a meeting.
A/N: Thank you for all the love this mini-series has received! I will be writing a fourth and final part two wrap up the story, so keep an eye out for that soon :)
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue
•••
It had been a month since Y/N and Eris had accepted the bond and neither one could be happier. Every moment they spent with one another, they spent that time completing in love with one another. Y/N had never felt so wanted before. She had never been anyone’s priority. Now that she had Eris, he made her his priority.
Over the past month, Eris and her had been experimenting with her newfound power. Not Y/N or Eris has a clue about what it was yet but Y/N was trying to do her best to control it. But that wasn’t what she wanted to focus on. Her main priority was her happiness with Eris.
“Y/N, my love,” Eris said, walking into their shared bedroom.
Y/N lifted her gaze from her book and smiled as Eris sat on the edge of the bed. Y/N placed the book down next to her and shuffled across the bed to Eris, wrapped her arms around him, pressing her chest against his back.
“I missed you,” Y/N muttered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Eris chuckled, reaching up to caress her wrist. “I haven’t been gone long.”
“That doesn’t mean that I can’t miss you,” Y/N replied, tightening her arms around him.
Eris smiled and tilted his head to the side and captured her lips with his. He smiled into the kiss. Eris never thought he would find his happiness, he always through his whole life would be subjected to the torture from his father. Even when Eris was crowned High Lord, he still wasn’t happy. But now that he had Y/N, he had found his happiness. He had found the part of him that was missing.
“I love you,” Eris mumbled against her lips.
Y/N smiled. “I love you too.”
Y/N held onto Eris’s hand and twisted his rings around his fingers, an act she has picked up since their mating ceremony. The ring on his middle finger was one Y/N had bought for him and was one of Eris’s favourite pieces of jewellery. It wasn’t expensive and it wasn’t anything special but Y/N had gifted it to him so it made it the most special thing he owned.
“I have a preposition for you,” Eris said.
“Yeah?” Y/N said. “And what’s that?”
“What would you say to becoming my High Lady?” Eris said. His voice was quiet as if he were afraid of the answer.
Y/N stilled her movements. “What?”
“I am asking if you would become the High Lady of Autumn,” Eris replied, threading his fingers with hers.
“You can’t be serious, Eris,” said Y/N, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Me as a High Lady? I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a court.”
“I will be by your side,” Eris said, twisting to face her. “My love, I want to change this court for the better. The way my father ruled is not the way I want to rule. I don’t want people to fear me like they did him. I don’t want the workers at the palace to cower at the sight of me.” Eris pressed his forehead against Y/N’s. “With you by my side you can show everyone that this court is changing for the better. You are kind and loyal and hardworking. You are what males and females alike will want to see ruling the Autumn Court by my side.”
Y/N felt tears spring to her eyes. “You really want me as High Lady?”
Eris cupped her cheeks, wiping away the few stray tears that had fallen, a soft smile– one only Y/N ever got to see– on his face. “Of course I do. There is no one else in the world that would make a finer High Lady than you.”
Eris pressed his lips against Y/N’s with so much tenderness that it made her heart explode. Y/N loved him more than she had ever loved anyone and she hated how the Inner Circle had made him out to be some kind of monster.
“I have a preposition for you,” Y/N said, pulling away from his lips.
“And what is that, my love,” Eris questioned, pushing her down onto the bed so he hovered over her.
“Marry me,” Y/N said. “I know that we are already mated but when I was human, I always dreamed of having a large fancy wedding when I grew up. I imagined that I would marry someone I loved with all of my heart. I would wear a golden dress that trailed behind me as I walked. There would be flowers strung from the ceiling and decorating every single table.”
Eris smiled at her. “I will be happy to make your fantasy a reality. You are my mate but I would also take great pride in calling you my wife.”
“And I will be happy to become your High Lady,” Y/N replied and kissed him.
Eris smiled into the kiss and pressed his body down on top of her. Despite the way they both had been feeling for the past month with barely getting out of the bed, all they wanted to be was close to one another. Eris pressed gentle kisses across her jaw and to her neck before laying down, his head rested partially on her chest. Y/N smiled as she threading her fingers in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. Eris sighed in content.
Seeing Eris completely relaxed made Y/N happy. When he had spoken to her about the way he was raised and what his father did to him, Y/N only held him in her arms the way she was currently doing as he finally broke down. Centuries of emotions finally coming to light. Most of the things he told her, he had never told anyone before and Y/N had come to realise why Eris put up the facade he did. It was to protect his family and the people of the court. He sacrificed everything to keep the people he loved safe.
“I love you, my darling,” Eris muttered, his lips brushing against her neck.
Y/N tilted her head to the side, her lips grazing his forehead. “I love you too, my dear. More than I can describe.”
It wasn’t long before the two fell into a peaceful sleep.
***
Another month had passed and Y/N was officially High Lady of Autumn. It still wasn’t news across any other court yet as Y/N wanted to get adjusted before announcing it and of course Eris allowed her as much time as she needed.
A second throne was made and it was even larger than Eris’s. At first Y/N objected but after noticing the details he had put into the throne she began to love it and the two had spent countless hours making love on that throne.
Even now as Y/N began to spread her legs while Eris kneeled down in front of her, they were both prepared for no interruptions. Just as Y/N began to lift her skirt, the doors burst open and a guard ran in. Y/N quickly closed her legs while Eris rolled his eyes.
“What is it?” He demanded. “Myself and the High Lady were busy.”
“A letter came from the Night Court with urgency,” the guard said. “It is addressed to the High Lady.”
“Me?” Y/N said, rising from her throne.
Y/N did not know what to think. It had been eight months since she had last been in the Night Court and since she last saw her sisters. There was a part of Y/N that never thought she would see them again. They hadn’t reached out since she said that she decided to remain in Autumn.
“Thank you,” Y/N said and dismissed the guard as she looked at the letter in her hands.
“What are you thinking?” Eris asked, his hands lightly tugging her forward until she sat on his thigh as he wrapped his arms around her middle.
“I’m thinking, why now? It’s been eight months, why send me a letter now?”
Eris pressed a kiss against her shoulder. “Y/N, even though I do not give a shit about any of them, you should open it. I know you still love and care for your sisters, they might want to reach out to you.”
Y/N sighed and slowly began to open the letter. The writing was the familiar scrawl of her youngest sister. Even though Y/N didn’t like Rhysand, she was grateful that he had taught her how to read and write. Growing up, Y/N hadn’t had the time to teach her because of how much she had been working and when she wasn’t working, she was resting. In between that she had no time to sit down with Feyre and teach her.
Y/N’s eyes scanned over the letter as Eris’s hand caressed her hip, drawing patterns with his thumb. Eris didn’t read the note, respecting Y/N’s privacy. Instead he simply sat back and admired her beauty in the sun coming from the skylight.
“They want to arrange a dinner to discuss,” Y/N said, folding the letter away.
“Discuss what?” Eris questioned.
“The letter didn’t say,” Y/N responded, wrapping an arm around Eris’s shoulder. “Feyre only mentioned that it was urgent.”
“Do you wish to go?” Eris asked. “You don’t need to if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to go,” Y/N said. “It could be important. Someone could be in danger.” Y/N sighed. “But…I want it to happen here.”
“I’m not disagreeing, but why here?”
Y/N shrugged. “I think I just want to prove that I belong here. I want to prove that I am happier here. I am happier with you.”
Eris smiled, kissing her shoulder. “I am glad to hear that.”
Y/N threaded her fingers in his hair before shifting herself so she straddled his waist. “Now, where were we?”
***
The dinner was awkward. Y/N sat at the head of the table and Eris sat to her left, opposite Rhysand. Everything was made even more uncomfortable when Rhysand commented on why Eris was not sitting at the end of the table since he valued all of the power he had gained over the court since he became High Lord. Eris only growled at him. Y/N had told him to play nice and that was as nice as he could get.
“I am just going to come out and ask,” Y/N spoke up. “Why did you want to meet? It’s been eight months.”
No one responded for a while, only the sound of knives and forks scratched on plates. It was a sound Y/N hated.
“We were planning for a way to get you back,” Feyre finally spoke up.
“Get me back?” Y/N questioned.
“You were taken by Autumn–”
“I was not taken,” Y/N cut her brother-in-law off. “I stayed here willingly.”
Rhysand scoffed. “You can’t expect us to believe that you would willingly stay here, Y/N. We have told you what Eris is like.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Eris’s grip tighten on his cutlery. Beneath the table she brushed her foot against his leg as a sign of comfort. His grip slackened on the utensils.
“Yes, you did tell me what Eris was like,” Y/N replied. “You told me how cruel and awful he was. You made him out to be some kind of monster incapable of love.”
“Which he is–”
“He’s the furthest thing from that,” Y/N defended her mate. “He is protective, he listens and he cares for me. And I care for him, so whatever you say against him, you say against me, Rhysand.”
The rest of the Inner Circle was silent as Y/N surveyed them. Nothing short of the High Lady she had grown into the past few weeks.
“Just cut the bullshit, Y/N,” Cassian exclaimed, letting hit cutlery fall to his plate. “You can’t like it here.”
“Actually, I’ve grown quite fond of it,” Y/N replied, biting the carrot from her fork, sending Cassian a smile. “It’s been a real home for me, more than Velaris ever was.”
Feyre met Y/N’s gaze and silently pleaded with her. Y/N’s gaze softened as she looked at her youngest sister. Her and Feyre had always been close but ever since she was first taken by Tamlin, they had grown apart.
“If that is all you wished to discuss, I must ask you all to leave,” said Y/N, standing to her feet.
“You don’t have the power to order us out, Y/N,” Rhysand remarked.
“You will find she does,” Eris spoke up for the first time since the dinner started. “Since she is the High Lady of Autumn, she has the power to forcibly remove you all from our court.”
Everyone looked shocked, even Azriel whose face remained stoic throughout the whole discussion.
“High Lady?” Nesta questioned. “You are the High Lady of Autumn?”
“Indeed I am,” Y/N responded. “And as High Lady I order you all to leave immediately– except my sisters. There is something I wish to discuss with them in private.”
“Whatever you say to them, you can say in front of all of us,” Rhysand growled.
“Watch the way you speak to her, Rhysand,” Eris said, his voice calm but dangerous.
“It is a family discussion,” Y/N said. “And as far as I’m aware, none of you are my family. If you were, you would have acted like it.”
Y/N swiftly walked around the table. “Feyre, Nesta, Elain, if you wish to have the discussion I mentioned, follow me. If not, leave and don’t try to contact me again.”
There was silence as Y/N left the room, her heart falling the slightest amount at the lack of movement but when she heard three chairs scrape across the floor she smiled. Her three younger sisters followed her out of the door and down the hallway. They were silent as Y/N opened the door to her former bedroom allowing her sisters to step in before her.
As they stepped in, they looked around for anything that could be a danger but they were distracted by the large windows leading to a small balcony that had the most beautiful view of the court. Y/N smiled at her sister's stunned faces.
“Please make yourselves comfortable,” Y/N said, gesturing to a small seating area.
Her sisters sat down on the plush seats, rigid in their posture. Y/N sat down with them, kicking off her shoes and bringing her feet to rest under her. Feyre was the only one who relaxed her posture.
“So,” Elain spoke up. “This is where you live.”
“Yes it is,” Y/N said with a soft smile. “It is rather beautiful, isn’t it?”
Elain looked out of the window once more, her gaze taking in the sight. “It is,” she finally agreed. “I see why you like it here.”
Nesta scoffed. “Come on, Elain. We all know the real reason is because of Eris.”
Y/N’s gaze shifted to Nesta. “And why do you assume that?”
“He has clearly bewitched you,” Nesta accused. “Why else would you be with him?”
“Because he is my mate,” Y/N revealed. “And I am in love with him, and he is with me.”
Her three sisters stiffened, eyes wide.
“He’s your mate?” Feyre questioned.
“Yes,” Y/N replied. “And before you send any more accusations his way, Nesta, You must know that he didn’t force me. In fact he was the one who waited until I accepted it. He was even perfectly content if I decided to reject it. Over the six months I was here, I began to fall in love with him and it wasn’t just the bond.”
“You three do not see what I see because you see him through a filtered lens,” Y/N continued. “You think you know Eris, but none of you do. You believe what you hear and how he presents himself. But you also must understand that the reason he was cold and cruel was to protect his family from the abuse of his father. He put a facade for everyone to see.” Y/N focused her gaze on her youngest sister. “Sound familiar, Feyre? Seems like our mates are a lot more alike than you think.”
Feyre was silent, although Y/N could tell she wanted to come to the defence of her mate.
“Now, the reason why I asked you three here was to talk to you without Rhysand cutting me off every second,” Y/N said. “All I ask you is why?”
“Why?” Nesta questioned. “Why, what?”
“Why did none of you care?” Y/N asked. “Why did none of you come to check on me after the war? Why did you all pretend I didn’t even exist when all I did for my whole life was care for each of you?”
“Of course we cared, Y/N,” Elain replied, her voice quiet. “We love you.”
“So you’ve told me,” Y/N said, her voice cold. “But I do have a hard time believing it. Sisters are meant to care for one another and love one another unconditionally. That is all I have done for each of you. I am the eldest and I felt a need to protect all of you, even though I know you each are so strong and perfectly capable of protecting yourselves.”
Tears shone in Feyre and Elain’s eyes while Nesta simply looked down at her hands. Y/N let out a breath.
“I do love you three but you need to stop letting your mates and any relationship you have cloud your judgement of others,” Y/N said. “Starting with Eris. With all he’s been through, he doesn’t deserve it. He deserved so much love and he deserves to be accepted.”
“Our wedding takes place in one month from today,” Y/N said. “You are all invited. If you don’t show up, I will know that you don’t wish to fix our relationship and I will happily never see any of you again unless completely necessary. If you do show up, I will assume that you want to work on fixing our relationship.”
Y/N’s voice was steady but she had to fight to keep it steady. She let out a quiet sigh and rose to her feet. “Now, we will return to the dining room. You can discuss anything that I have spoken about with the rest of the Inner Circle.”
“Even what you mentioned about Eris?” Feyre asked.
Y/N nodded. “Even that. He and I had a talk before you all arrived.”
Y/N swiftly turned on her heel and exited the bedroom, her sisters slowly rising and following behind her. It took no time at all to return to the dining room. What Y/N hadn’t expected was Rhysand to be at Eris’s throat, bearing his teeth.
“Rhysand!” Y/N spoke, her voice loud and commanding.“Get away from my mate.”
At the revelation of the two being mates, everyone stilled but Y/N simply ignored them. “If you want to keep the Autumn Court as an alliance, I suggest you take a step back from Eris.”
Eris watched her, fondness evident on his face. He had never seen her take charge of a room before and he enjoyed it, even if he had the High Lord of the Night Court’s forearm pressed against his throat.
“Rhys,” Feyre’s voice echoed. “Step away.”
The corner of Y/N’s lips tugged at Feyre’s command to her mate. Rhysand took a step back from Eris and he instantly pressed his hand against his neck where Rhyand’s forearm resided. Y/N stepped over to him.
“Are you okay?” Y/N asked, the command in her voice gone in an instant. Instead it was replaced by a tenderness that made Eris weak at the knees.
“I’m okay,” Eris replied, slipping his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side.
Eris looked around at the Inner Circle and cleared his throat. “I will pretend that little spat didn’t happen. I believe this dinner is over.”
“But—” Cassian piped up.
“This dinner is over,” Eris cut him off. “You may show yourselves out, or if that is putting too much trust in all of you, I will happily escort you out myself.”
“We can leave ourselves,” Elain spoke up, looking directly at Y/N. “We have matters to discuss in private.”
Elain looked toward Feyre and Nesta and the three sisters began to leave the room, the rest of the Inner Circle following behind them, not before shooting a glare Eris’s way.
Y/N held her breath as they inched closer and closer to the door. Once they left the door shut with a slam, Y/N let out a breath and leaned into Eris. His grip on her waist tightened as he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her close to his chest.
“You were incredible, my love,” said Eris, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “The most perfect High Lady.”
Y/N wrapped her arms round his torso, burying her head into his chest. In Eris’s arms she felt safe and that nothing could harm her. It was her own personal bubble that no one could break.
“I asked my sisters to the wedding,” Y/N said, her voice slightly muffled by Eris’s jacket. “I gave them the two options we spoke about.”
Eris’s fingers tangled in her hair. “And what did they say?”
“Nothing,” Y/N replied. “They said absolutely nothing.”
Eris tilted his head down so his lips brushed her forehead. “That doesn’t mean that they won’t show up. There is still a possibility.”
Y/N sighed and pulled away from Eris, slumping against the floor, not bothering to sit in one of the pushed out chairs from the table. “I know that there is a possibility but there is also the huge possibility that they don’t show up. They are my sister’s. They should love me.”
“They do,” said Eris, sliding down to the floor to sit next to her. “And even if they don’t, you don’t need them. You have so many here that love you. The guards love you. The servants love you. Most males, females and children of the Autumn Court love you. They love your compassion, your kindness, your protectiveness, your willingness to right all of the wrongs my father committed. You have plenty of people who love and adore you, even if you don’t see it.”
Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she launched herself into Eris’s arms. “I love you so much.”
Eris squeezed her back, closing his eyes. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
Y/N moved so her knees rested on either side of his thighs. The cold marble floor wasn’t very comfortable but she needed to be closer to Eris and to hold him within her arms. “You deserve me, Eris. You are the one who has made me feel wanted and important. You are the one who endured centuries of abuse from your own father just to protect those you love. You may have built up walls and never let people see the real you, but I do and I love you. I love every part of you.”
Eris buried his head into Y/N’s shoulder, wrapping his strong arms around her middle. “We deserve each other.”
“We do,” Y/N replied, moving back to kiss his lips.
Eris admired how beautiful she looked. Her hair had tumbled down from her elegant updo but as it fell in waves around her, she looked angelic. She looked surreal. She was the most beautiful female he had ever seen.
Y/N rested her forehead against his, simply savouring the closeness. “I must ask you though, what caused Rhysand to be at your throat?”
Eris chuckled. “You left and the conversation turned dreadfully boring so I needed to liven it up somehow.”
Y/N laughed and pressed her lips against his in a short and sweet kiss. “You really cannot help yourself.”
Eris simply shrugged before pulling her back until she hovered over him as he laid on his back. One hand cupped the back of her neck, bringing her lips down so they hovered only centimetres from his.
“Y/N Vanserra,” Eris mused. “I like the sound of that.”
“What about Eris Archeron?” Y/N replied. “I like the sound of that.”
Eris chuckled. “I don’t care if you take my name or I take yours. All I care about is that I get to call you my wife.”
“And I get to call you my husband,” Y/N said, smiling brightly.
Eris stroked her cheek before connecting their lips, praying that no one walked into the dining room.
#eris vanserra x y/n#eris vanserra x you#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra#acotar x reader#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#eris acotar
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Royally Fucked | Five
— Unresolved Tensions
series masterlist
wc: 3.8k
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work
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The night air was cool against Juliette’s skin as she and Daniel slipped out of the hotel’s back exit. The dimly lit alley allowed them to escape discreetly. His hand was a firm but gentle guide on her back, steering her toward the waiting car. He had coordinated every detail of their exit with precision, ensuring no eyes were on them.
Daniel opened the passenger door for her, his gaze scanning their surroundings with a practiced eye. The secondary security team had already cleared the area, and their vehicle was positioned out of sight from the main road. Juliette slid into the car, her heart still racing from the night’s events. The moment Daniel closed the door and circled to the driver’s side, she felt a slight but palpable shift in the air. The tension was thick, but it wasn’t directed solely at her.
As they securely pulled away from the hotel, his grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles white under the dim glow of the dashboard lights. Daniel’s eyes darted frequently to the rearview mirror, checking for any signs of pursuit. Every turn, every streetlight passed was measured, as if he was piecing together a puzzle in his mind to ensure they remained unseen.
Despite a security team being prepared and stationed to assist, Daniel made the decision that only he and Juliette would go to a secondary location. The fewer people involved, the less chance of drawing unwanted attention. His decision was firm, rooted in the need to keep her as safe and inconspicuous as possible. Instead, the team would handle Vincent and secure the area, but the immediate priority was getting Juliette out without a trace.
Juliette sat in silence, her hands clasped in her lap. She could sense the frustration simmering beneath Daniel’s calm exterior. The quiet in the car was thick, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional click of Daniel’s phone as he coordinated their next steps. He had always been attentive, quick with a joke or a reassuring word, but tonight, he was different—colder, more distant.
The silence between them grew heavier with each passing mile. She had slowly but surely started becoming accustomed to the sound of Daniel’s voice, to the comfort it brought in empty silences and tense situations. But now, the absence of his usual warmth was disconcerting.
Unable to bear it any longer, Juliette finally broke the silence. “Daniel…” she began, her voice tentative, almost unsure of itself. She glanced over at him, hoping for a response that would break the icy barrier that had formed between them.
His eyes remained fixed on the road, his expression unreadable. He didn’t respond, not even with a glance in her direction. The weight of his silence hung in the air, amplifying the tension.
Juliette tried again, her tone a little firmer this time, though still tinged with uncertainty. “I know I should’ve stayed in the room, but I… I just couldn’t sit still, not after what happened.”
Daniel’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, but he still said nothing, his focus on the road unwavering. His silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the steady flow of conversation they usually shared.
The silence from his end stung, feeling like a punishment and perhaps it was—one she would have to endure until he deemed it necessary to speak again. With him so withdrawn, she felt adrift, unsure of how to navigate the tension between them.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Daniel spoke. “Your Highness, leaving the room wasn’t the issue,” he said, his tone low yet firm. “You’re allowed to do anything you like. You’re the princess. But I wish you had told me, I wish you had let me accompany you.”
Juliette’s heart sank a little at his words, but she remained silent, letting him continue.
“Security isn’t just about what happens during an event,” Daniel went on, his voice tightening with the weight of his concern. “It’s everything before, during, and after. The threats don’t disappear once the event ends. If anything, that’s when they become more dangerous.” He glanced at her briefly before his eyes returned to the road.
He hesitated, his jaw working as if he was trying to find the right words. “You nearly got stabbed tonight,” Daniel said, his voice steady, his professional demeanor never faltering. But Juliette could see it—the flicker of raw worry in his eyes, a vulnerability that he rarely showed. It wasn’t the fear of failing in his duties as her bodyguard or being deemed unworthy of protecting a princess. It was something deeper, more personal. He was genuinely worried about her—as a friend.
Juliette felt a pang of guilt at that realization, understanding the weight of his concern. She hadn’t fully grasped the danger she’d been in until now, and the reality of it all hit her with a cold, sharp clarity.
Daniel exhaled slowly, his frustration evident, but it was clear that the anger wasn’t directed at her. “I’m supposed to protect you,” he said, his voice softening, though the tension remained. “But I can’t do that if I’m not there. All I’m asking for is your trust in my abilities.”
Juliette nodded slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “I understand. I trust you,” she replied quietly. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I really am.”
Daniel didn’t respond immediately, but the stiffness in his posture seemed to ease, if only slightly. The silence between them was no longer as suffocating, but it was still heavy with the unresolved tension of the night’s events.
They continued down the darkened road, the safe house still a few hours away. Despite the emotional distance that had grown between them, Juliette knew that they would have to find a way to rebuild the trust that had been shaken tonight. For now, she would do her part by proving that she trusts him.
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It was well over midnight when Daniel pulled up to the safe house. The drive had been long and relatively quiet—except for a few small disagreements about the music—and the isolation of their destination only added to the somber mood. The house itself was tucked away in the woods, a fortified residence that exuded security and comfort in equal measure. As they stepped out of the car, Juliette took in the surroundings, the dense trees offering both protection and a sense of seclusion.
Daniel moved with practiced efficiency, his eyes scanning every corner of the property, ensuring that all security measures were in place. He entered the house and checked the locks, the windows, and the security monitors, leaving nothing to chance.
Juliette stood by the doorway, watching him work, a thought crossing her mind. “You know,” she began, her voice light but carrying an edge of dark humor, “if you were the real threat, you could easily kill me here, and no one would ever know.”
Daniel paused, his back still to her as her words hung in the air. Slowly, he turned to face her, his expression serious for a split second before a playful smile tugged at his lips.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “If I were the real threat,” he said quietly. “I think I’d be more creative than this.” He gestured around them, as if to say that choosing such a predictable setting would be beneath him.
Despite his smile, there was a subtle edge to his tone, a hint of something dangerous that lingered just beneath the surface. The contrast between his lightheartedness and the underlying threat made Juliette realize how profoundly she had come to trust him. The fact that he was the only person standing between her and any real danger added weight to his words. Yet, as quickly as the tension had appeared, it was dispelled. His expression softened, the brief flash of darkness vanishing as if he hadn’t just hinted at something far more darker.
“Oh, thanks, I suppose that’s a comforting thought,” she said lightly, her attempt at humour falling flat.
He shot her a quick wink before turning back to finish his sweep of the room, the moment of levity breaking through the lingering tension between them.
Juliette stepped inside the house, her eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. The interior was understated but functional—well-fortified and secure, yet designed for comfort. The furniture was sturdy, the decor simple, and the atmosphere was calming in its own way. She could see the reinforced locks on the doors and the security cameras mounted discreetly around the rooms.
When he spoke again, his tone was gentler, almost reassuring. “This place is as secure as it gets. You’ll be safe here.”
Juliette nodded, taking in the aftermath of the situation. The safe house, though comfortable, felt foreign and isolating. It was a stark contrast to the lively hotel she had left behind, and it brought a new layer of reality to the evening’s events. She began to unpack their essentials alongside Daniel, trying to make the space feel a bit more like home.
As they worked side by side, the silence was no longer uncomfortable. It felt like they were gradually slipping back into their usual rhythm, the unspoken bond between them strengthening after everything they had been through.
Finally, after everything was settled, Daniel sat on the couch, a small smile playing on his lips. “Get comfortable, Your Highness,” he said with a hint of his usual humor. “We might be here for a while.”
Juliette raised an eyebrow, a frown playing on her lips. “What do you mean? How long are we staying here?”
“We’ll be staying here for a few days, at least until we’re sure it’s safe to return to the palace,” he explained, his tone more relaxed now. “Vincent could be a one-off, but until we know for sure, this is the best place for us.”
Despite his earlier detachment, Daniel was still the same person she had come to rely on. His professionalism and dedication to her safety were unwavering, but beneath that was a genuine concern for her well-being.
Soon, Juliette retreated to the bedroom, her dress rustling softly as she moved. The room was dimly lit by a bedside lamp, casting a warm glow over the tasteful furnishings. She glanced at her reflection in the full-length mirror, noting the intricate beading of her gown and how it clung uncomfortably to her form. The elegance of the dress felt more like a burden than a symbol of grace at that moment.
With a sigh of frustration, she fumbled with the zipper at the back, which had stubbornly snagged. She struggled to fix the issue, feeling the dress that had once made her feel regal now felt like a shackle. Twisting and turning to try and get a grasp on the tiny zipper down her back, the effort seemed futile. Finally, deciding that damaging the dress wasn't worth the stress, she called for Daniel.
She heard his footsteps approach immediately, followed by the soft click of the door opening. Daniel stepped inside, his eyes quickly assessing the situation as he saw Juliette grappling with the stubborn zipper.
“Everything alright, Your Highness?” he asked, his tone neutral as he took in the sight before him.
Juliette turned to face him, her frustration evident. “The zipper won’t budge,” she admitted, lifting her hair to make it easier for him to reach. “I’m afraid I might ruin it if I keep trying.”
Daniel nodded and approached her in a few short strides. He stood close behind her, his breath warm against her neck as he carefully worked on the zipper. His fingers brushed lightly against her skin as he maneuvered the clasp.
“I’ve got it,” he said softly next to her ear, his voice a reassuring murmur. With a deft pull, the zipper slid down smoothly, freeing Juliette from the confines of the dress.
The relief was immediate and palpable. Juliette took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as the tension eased. “Thank you,” she said, her voice softer now, laced with genuine gratitude.
A small smile tugged at his lips. “No problem,” he replied. “I’m here to help, after all.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. Daniel’s fingers lingered at the base of her spine, his touch barely there but impossible to ignore. The warmth of his hand met the coolness of her bare skin, and Juliette couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down her back. His thumb brushed lightly along the path the zipper had traced, the contact sending a delicate tremor through her.
The air between them grew thick with a tension neither of them seemed eager to break. Juliette’s breath hitched, the simple act of undressing suddenly charged with an unspoken intensity. She turned slightly, just enough to catch his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. The way he looked at her—steady, attentive, with something smouldering beneath the surface—made her pulse quicken.
She hesitated, weighing her words before she spoke. “So, you’d help with anything?” she asked, her voice quiet, almost teasing, but laced with something more. The question hung in the air, a delicate invitation wrapped in subtlety.
Daniel’s eyes darkened ever so slightly, the playful smile on his lips fading into something more thoughtful, more intent. His fingers brushed over her back one last time before he withdrew them, as if reluctantly letting go of something he wasn’t ready to admit.
“Anything you need,” he replied, his voice low, the words carrying a weight that belied their simplicity.
Juliette’s heart skipped a beat at his response, the space between them suddenly feeling charged with possibilities that hadn’t been there before. The room seemed smaller, the silence more intimate, as if they were the only two people in the world at that moment.
But just as quickly as the tension had built, it began to ease as Daniel stepped back, watching her for a moment before leaving the room, giving her the privacy she needed to continue undressing. Yet the undercurrent of their exchange lingered, an unspoken understanding that hung in the air, unresolved but undeniable.
As the door clicked shut, Juliette let the dress slip from her shoulders, leaving her standing in the soft light of the room, feeling both exposed and strangely empowered. Juliette dressed slowly, her mind still replaying the moment with Daniel. She pulled on a pair of soft lounge pants and a loose top, something far more comfortable than the gown she had been confined in all evening. But, no amount of soft fabric could soothe the memory of Daniel’s touch that prickled under her skin.
Deciding to push aside the thoughts that refused to settle, Juliette stepped out of the bedroom and made her way to the living room. But as she entered, she was caught off guard by the sight of Daniel lounging on the sofa, completely at ease in his casual clothes.
He wore a simple t-shirt and a pair of joggers, an outfit that seemed so out of place for the man who usually stood guard in tailored suits. Yet here he was, looking every bit like someone she could have met in a more ordinary life—someone who could have been a friend, maybe even something more. The stark contrast between the Daniel she was used to and the man sitting comfortably before her only served to stir the tension that had simmered between them since their last encounter.
As her eyes adjusted to the brighter light, she noticed the tattoos on his left arm, now fully visible in the soft glow of the room. She had seen a few of them before, when he rolled up his sleeves on the plane, but many had been hidden then. Now, the inked designs told a story she hadn’t expected—a glimpse into a side of him she had never fully seen.
It was hard not to notice how relaxed he appeared, his guard down in a way she hadn’t seen before. The way the fabric of his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the casual sprawl of his legs, the easy confidence in his posture—it all made him look less like the bodyguard she was supposed to maintain a professional relationship with and more like someone who belonged in her personal life, someone who could effortlessly blur the lines between duty and desire.
Daniel glanced up as she entered, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Hey,” he greeted, his tone as casual as his appearance, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
“Hey,” she replied, trying to sound equally nonchalant as she moved closer. But she couldn’t shake the awareness that prickled beneath her skin, the tension that seemed to hum quietly between them, an undercurrent she couldn’t ignore.
Juliette found herself lingering near the sofa, her eyes subtly tracing the lines of his relaxed form. He looked different, more approachable, yet it was precisely this version of him that felt the most dangerous—the most capable of making her forget the boundaries that had been so carefully constructed. This was the Daniel who could slip into her life in ways that were entirely too intimate, too personal.
“You look…different from your usual attire,” she remarked, trying to keep the conversation light.
Daniel smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Good different or bad different?”
“Good different,” she admitted, a smile playing on her lips. “It suits you. It’s just unexpected, I guess.”
He chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. “Well, I suppose it’s a side of me you’ll get to see more often while we’re here. No suits or ties required.”
Juliette laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. “I think I can handle that.”
For a moment, silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The tension from earlier still simmered beneath the surface, but they both seemed content to let it lie for now, focusing instead on the small, normal moments that allowed them to relax.
“I was thinking of making something to eat,” Daniel said, breaking the quiet. “I’m starving. Want to join me?”
Juliette’s stomach growled softly at the mention of food, reminding her that it had been hours since they last ate. She glanced at the clock on the wall—it was getting pretty late, midnight struck hours ago, but the idea of sharing a meal with Daniel, even this late, seemed comforting. “Sure. I’m hungry too.”
They moved to the kitchen together, the air between them lighter now, the earlier tension replaced by the comfort of routine. Daniel rummaged through the pantry, pulling out ingredients for a simple meal, while Juliette set about preparing the counter space. It felt almost domestic, the way they worked in tandem, as if they had done this a hundred times before.
They ate together, savoring the simplicity of the meal and the ease of each other’s company. For a brief moment, the worries of the day seemed distant, replaced by light conversation and shared laughter. Daniel’s stories, filled with his humor and vivid descriptions, kept Juliette engaged, her own smiles and laughter coming more freely than it had in days.
As the time passed, though, Juliette could feel a creeping unease settling in her chest. Even the warmth of the meal and Daniel’s comforting presence couldn’t entirely push away the restlessness that lingered at the edges of her mind. The idea of going to bed alone in a strange place, after the events of the day, felt daunting. Yet, she didn’t want to voice it directly. Instead, she found herself drawing out the conversation, asking Daniel about anything and everything—his travels, the places he’d seen, even the tattoos that had caught her eye earlier—details she had never thought to ask before.
Daniel, ever perceptive, indulged her questions with a patient smile, but after a while, he glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting late,” he noted gently, his tone still warm but carrying a hint of concern. “You should try to get some rest.”
Juliette’s heart skipped a beat, the reality of the night ahead sinking in. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep, not in the way she needed to. The silence that had been comforting earlier now felt like it might swallow her whole if she were left alone with it.
Reluctantly, she stood, her hands lingering on the edge of the table as she tried to find the words. Daniel watched her, his gaze steady, sensing that something was off.
“Daniel…” she began, her voice quieter than before. “I don’t think I can sleep.”
He looked at her, understanding dawning in his eyes. He opened his mouth to offer reassurance, to remind her that she was safe here, but she cut him off with a look that told him it wasn’t just about the physical safety of the place.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she finally admitted, the vulnerability in her voice surprising even her. “Could you…stay?”
His brow furrowed slightly as he nodded, clearly ready to reassure her. “I’m not going anywhere, Your Highness. I’ll be here the whole time, right in the next room.”
But she shook her head, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of hesitation and sincerity. “No, I mean…stay. In my room.”
The air between them seemed to thicken, the implications of her request hanging in the space. Daniel’s expression softened, the understanding clear now. He realized it wasn’t just about proximity; it was about presence, about needing someone beside her, more than just physically.
“I didn’t say I’d do anything for you just for the sake of saying it,” Daniel replied, his voice low and earnest. “If you need me, I’ll stay.”
Juliette felt a wave of relief wash over her, the tension easing just a fraction as she nodded. Without another word, Daniel followed her to the bedroom, the unspoken promise of his presence offering a comfort that she hadn’t realized she needed so desperately.
When they reached the room, Daniel didn’t hesitate. He settled into the chair by the window, his gaze never leaving her. “I’ll be right here,” he said, the reassurance in his voice a balm to her frayed nerves.
His presence was solid and grounding, yet he was careful to respect the boundaries of her personal space. He wasn’t about to invade her privacy by suggesting they share the bed or take advantage of her vulnerability. After all, she was a princess, and he was her bodyguard. His role was to provide protection and support without overstepping the delicate balance of their professional relationship. His choice to stay in the chair, maintaining a respectful distance, was a testament to his understanding of the boundaries between them.
Juliette slid into the bed, the unfamiliar sheets feeling just a little more welcoming with him there. She didn’t know if she would sleep, but for the first time all night, the idea didn’t seem so impossible. As she closed her eyes, she let the sound of Daniel’s steady breathing anchor her, the darkness of the room no longer feeling so suffocating.
With him there, maybe, just maybe, she could find some peace.
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#royally fkd fic#thef1diary fic#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x female oc#f1 x oc#f1 series#f1 au#f1 fluff#f1 fiction#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo x oc#daniel ricciardo fic#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo fanfic#formula one x oc#formula one fanfiction#formula one fic#formula 1 x oc#alternate universe
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Insatiable (Armand x Fem Vamp!Reader)
Summary: Escape. That's what he craved. Somewhere away from everything. Instinct had brought him to the club, not his usual scene. But it was you that kept him there. You were the escape he needed. Feeding desires he didn't know he had. And satisfying cravings he didn't know needed satiating.
This was originally meant to come under @lady-phasma's Fangtober Celebration but I got a little sidetracked (using the prompts exhibitionism, overstimulation (sort of) and blood).
CW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, afab reader, mentions of vampiric feeding, mentions of blood, mutual feeding, mentions of clubbing, (slight) mentions of sex work, exhibitionism, little bit of overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), dry humping, blood play, p in v sex, (slight) rough sex, public sex.
Words: 4260
Please enjoy my dive into a new fandom!
The music thudded low through the club as Armand entered. It wasn’t his usual choice of evening activity, but something drew him in. His feet took him out of the apartment and into the city.
He’d wandered aimlessly to begin with. Simply wanting to be away. But before he knew it, he was at the doorway, illuminated by the sign above.
And then he was walking in. Armand barely noticed the stamp to his hand, marking his patronage. He barely noticed the bodies he had to wade through to make it anywhere close to the main floor.
He was almost working automatically. Mind completely detached from his body.
If he’d been paying more attention, he’d have noticed the decided lack of mortal pulses.
But you saw him.
You were on stage, black lace forming perfectly to the swells and dips of your body. The music almost ran through your veins, your body moving of its own accord.
Your mind was entirely focused on him.
Ink black curls, blending into the all-black outfit he wore. There was just something about him that you couldn’t take your eyes away from.
And then he looked at you. He was at the bar now, drink in hand.
Even in the low light, the amber shade of his eyes was clear. As you imagined the preternatural shade of your own eyes was clear too. The customers in front of you faded to nothing.
All you saw was him.
And all he did was stare.
Armand could feel the other vampires, though their existence wasn’t his main priority. Nor was the coppery scent of blood coming from behind the bar. He wasn’t surprised such a place existed, some of his kin were far more frivolous with hiding what they were than he was.
Including you, it seemed.
The men in front of you were without a doubt human. He could hear the blood rushing through their veins, all with the same destination at the mere sight of you. Armand wasn’t faring much better, though he hid it well.
Watching your body sway to the music, he allowed his gaze to wander shamelessly over you.
And then he noticed, your eyes never left him. No matter what you did, you looked right back at him.
The song ended and he followed your retreating form. Disappearing seamlessly into the crowd before he knew it.
But Armand could feel you, the siren call of your mind.
“Come find me…”
He knew it wasn’t necessarily the right choice. He was only out tonight because he was upset, angry…any and all words that could describe his state of mind. None of them good.
But you were somehow cutting through it all. Taking the threads of his thoughts and tugging at them until he could only focus on you. And just like his walk here, his feet worked on their own accord, following the call of your mind.
You had disappeared into another room, similar to the last but with fewer seats around the podium. There were a few patrons within, and Armand didn’t hesitate in taking the free seat in a secluded corner of the room.
He could hear you, the faint thrum of your thoughts becoming more familiar by the second.
And then he saw you again. The black lace switched out for a deep red dress, far too similar to blood to be accidental. The silk skimming your thighs, barely covering the shape of your body.
There was something different about this room. The sound of the main club could be heard just through the arched door, muffled by the heavy red drapes. But the energy was different. It was clear the other patrons were not human now, no rapid pulses to be heard anymore.
Was this a room purely for his kind? Or was it nothing more than coincidence?
The darkened glass that had appeared before him answered his question. There was no doubt that it was not wine inside. Armand swilled the liquid in the glass, head tilted like a sommelier inspecting a vintage.
The music spilled through the speakers slowly, and again you moved fluidly to the sound as though you were one with the music.
“Is it to your liking?”
Armand’s lips twitched at the corners at the sound of your voice, slipping into his mind so easily. Part of him wondered if it sounded just as sultry when you spoke aloud.
“I think you know the answer to that. Do you choose all your patrons’ beverages?”
He sipped the blood with a satisfied sigh. He wasn’t in dire need of feeding, per se, but he’d never pass on it when offered.
The song changed to a faster beat, and you danced seamlessly.
“Only for those I find interesting.”
Interesting? You found him interesting. It wasn’t a word many threw in his direction. But it brought a surprising warmth to his chest.
His eyes finally turned back to you, following the undulations of your body to the music.
“Interesting? What about me is interesting?”
Armand could see you smile, eyes meeting his for just a moment.
“Now that would be telling.”
His glass soon emptied, and the waiter quickly refilled it.
What kind of club was this? And how had he never known of its existence before now?
“I can tell you’re curious. About me. About the club. About where the blood in that glass comes from.”
Your voice was both a mixture of seduction and boredom. Drawing him in whilst showing your disinterest in such boring questions.
Armand raised a brow.
“I am curious about many things, but those are certainly at the forefront.”
He could hear your soft giggle as the music changed, volume dipping for just a moment. Two more dancers joined the stage, allowing you to move closer to where Armand sat. For the first time, you were quite thankful for the circular shape of the stage.
There was still a little distance between you, but you hadn’t expected what a marvel it would be to see him up close. The light hitting his eyes and making them almost glow. The permanent smirk that only widened as you crouched down before him.
“Are you curious still?”
Armand had been right. Your voice was just as tantalizing aloud, cutting through the music just for him. Your finger circled the rim of his glass, picking up the small drops of blood that had been left behind and bringing them to your lips.
It was like everything you did was designed to entice and torture in equal measure. Armand could hardly imagine how humans fared against you.
“Hmm, there is that saying. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.”
You smiled, dropping to your knees now as the music changed. The song had switched back to a slower tempo and Armand couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from how your body moved. Almost like water, a snake even.
It was almost hypnotising.
His head moved every time you turned. Your sole focus was now on him. This wasn’t a strip club, you danced only because you enjoyed it. But something about Armand had you wanting to pay special attention to him.
“And how can I…satisfy you?”
The waiter continued to fill his glass. Between you and the deep red liquid, Armand had no intention of moving from his seat any time soon.
You rolled to your back, arching with your head draped back over the edge of the stage. Looking directly at Armand, body continuing to move to the music.
Armand smiled, bringing the glass to his lips and watching your eyes follow it. With little thought, he brought the glass to hover over your face. Instinctively, you opened your mouth, tongue rolling out.
With precise movements, Armand let the glass tilt. Droplets of blood hitting your tongue before he tilted the glass back.
“Your company is satisfying enough,” he purred, draining the glass of the remaining blood.
Your smile was genuine, making the corners of your eyes crinkle just a little. You took a quick glance around the room, the other patrons were occupied, and you had quite a lot of freedom as a dancer to start and end your performances as you pleased.
The song ended and you saw the flash of surprise in Armand’s eyes when you hopped off the stage.
“Then let me continue to satisfy you…” you ended the sentence as though it were a question and Armand realised what you wanted.
His name.
“Armand. You may call me Armand.”
You answered with your own name and Armand half expected you to join him at his table. But you smiled, disappearing quickly behind another curtain and returning only moments later. He could see the red lace of your dress still, peeking out from the burgundy leather skirt you had slipped over the top.
He chuckled to himself. Your outfit was no less revealing now than it was before, but it was almost like you were leaving the dancer behind and simply being you. As though the performer on stage was no more than a character.
Armand could feel you behind him, the scent of your perfume almost sickeningly sweet in his nostrils. Your nose brushing barely against the shell of his ear.
“I am all yours now, Armand.”
His name had never sounded sweeter, your words dripping into his ear like honey. The implication of what you said had his mind whirring. His foot pushed the seat out beside him, silently offering it to you.
As you sat, the same waiter as before set another sanguine glass in front of you. But your focus remained on Armand.
Your hand moved almost inches from where his rested on the table, watching him the entire time to gauge his reaction. And when he didn’t move, you continued. Perfectly manicured nails ghosting over the skin of the back of his hand.
“Now you can sate your curiosity, uninterrupted.”
Armand watched your finger trace his hand, mapping out every dip and ridge under his skin. If you had taken a peek, you would have seen the questions racing through his mind, unsure which to ask first. But when his gaze met yours, you knew he’d chosen.
“I want to know you. You offer me your company, but you don’t know me.”
You clicked your tongue a little at his answer but smiled anyway.
“Do we need to know each other?”
Everything about you was a mystery, every answer you gave only offered Armand more questions. You truly were fascinating. A puzzle he was determined to solve.
But you could see it was a genuine concern. Well, maybe concern was not the right word, but it clearly put him on edge.
You were taking away his control, something you had noticed he held tight to from the moment he’d entered the club. He was calculated in everything he did, and you were an obstacle he simply couldn’t manoeuvre.
Your finger trailed down to his wrist, gently flipping it over and circling his vein.
“But if you truly wish to know me, ask me something.”
The tension between you was palpable, almost buzzing in the air. Both of you torn between delving into the other’s psyche and tearing each other’s clothes off.
Armand thought for only a moment. You had a point, he didn’t need to know you. He didn’t need to know the inner workings of who you were, he didn’t need to know your past. His true curiosity lay with your interest in him.
“Do you offer all your patrons company?”
The question could be answered in so many ways, but there was an insecurity in how he spoke. Like he needed to know.
“I don’t. I pay attention to them when I dance, but nothing like I have for you.”
You could almost see him relax. It was like there were two masks he wore, the calm, calculated man and the fragile, desperate boy.
What you saw now, was somewhere between. The real Armand, you guessed.
“Then why me?”
His own hand now wrapped around your wrist, pulling you and the chair closer. Not an inch between the two seats anymore. Your hand was brought to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss before trailing down to your wrist.
A smirk tugged at your lips as you heard him inhale.
“Like I said, you’re interesting. And nothing like my usual admirers.”
Armand wasn’t the first customer to stare so intently, but he was the first to have caught your attention back. He was handsome, there was no doubt about it. But there was a pull, deep down, a primal urge to get closer.
You could barely hold back your sigh when his teeth nipped at the skin of your arm, not sinking in but the feeling sent a surge of heat down your spine.
“Interesting. Shall I show you how interesting I can be?”
Flashes of his thoughts entered your mind, teases of all the things he wanted to do to you.
Your teeth nibbled at your lip at the promise.
You stood fluidly, lacing your fingers together and tugging him away.
“How can I say no to that?”
Armand followed without question. You were intriguing, a welcome distraction from the maelstrom of emotion that was his life. Back through the crowd and into some more secluded corners, shielded from prying eyes with more heavy drapes.
The sofas inside were of the same deep red fabric as everything else in the club. And Armand didn’t resist when you urged him towards one of those couches, leaning himself back with his arms spread against the backrest.
You turned to close the drapes entirely, when Armand stopped you.
“Leave them, if you want,” he said softly, gesturing towards the drapes.
Your back remained turned as your teeth tugged at your lip, a smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth.
“An exhibitionist then?”
You glanced around before leaving a gap in the velvet, just enough that if anyone paid attention, they’d be able to see right in.
You heard Armand chuckle, giving you all the answer you needed.
Your walk was slow, purposeful, as you returned to him. Standing between his spread legs with your head tilted. You watched as his eyes trailed from your feet all the way up, though he stopped at your throat. Lingering perfectly over where your pulse would be.
With a smirk, you knelt down in front of him, watching as his breath just a little as your hand rested on his thigh, squeezing just a little.
“Want a taste?”
Your free hand raised in front of his hand, holding out the same wrist he had held at the table. Armand huffed out, reaching out and bringing your wrist back to his lips.
This time, though, he sunk his teeth right in. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t mind. And the rush through your veins had you clenching your thighs together. A soft moan slipping from your lips as he only pulled you closer.
You barely noticed that Armand was offering you his own arm, until his fingers tapped at your chin.
“Share and share alike…”
Armand’s voice slithered into your mind, making you sigh even deeper in pleasure.
There was no hesitation, leaning down and sinking your own fangs into his honeyed skin. Your moan of satisfaction vibrating through his body and you were sure you felt Armand growl against your own wrist.
Armand was the first to let go, the remains of your blood on his chin but he made no move to clean himself. His tongue laved over your wrist as he finished, drinking down anything that continued to spill.
You were so focused on the sweet taste of him on your tongue, that you barely noticed Armand lifting you into his lap. So smooth, his wrist remained latched between your teeth.
The new position gave him freedom to grind against you. One arm around your waist as he slowly rolled his hips. The tension, the teasing, the feeling of your teeth in his wrist all combined to make him almost dizzy with pleasure.
You were just as messy when you pulled away. His blood dripping down your chin and onto your chest. There was no hesitation as your lips crashed together.
Sense had been overtaken by lust.
Your own hips began to roll down against his. Skirt pushed higher over your thighs with every movement you made. Armand’s free hand moved up the expanse of one and round to the flesh of your backside, urging you to move faster and faster.
Neither of you held back the sounds that slipped past your lips. Most sounds swallowed as your lips came together in a clash of tongues and teeth. The mixed flavours of your combined blood only adding more to the haze of desire.
You could hear people passing the room, but neither of you cared. It certainly wasn’t the most depraved thing to have ever happened within these walls.
Armand’s lips moved down your jaw and to your neck, leaving bloodied kisses in his wake before sinking into the juncture with a groan.
Your hand tangled into his hair, holding him tight to your body as you felt your release crash over you, chanting his name as you continued to roll less rhythmically against him. You could feel his length twitching beneath you, the hand on your rear squeezing and pulling you down harder against him.
You had barely come down from your high when you were on your back. Skirt tugged down your body, legs spreading instinctively as Armand pressed kisses to your thighs.
“I wonder if you taste as good down here…”
The shredding of lace was a welcome sound, you could easily replace it. Armand’s hands gripped your thighs tight, teeth nipping your skin only to soothe every bite with a kiss.
Your hand tangled into his hair, urging him to where you wanted him the most, despite the way your core still pulsed from your last release.
Not trusting your voice, your words slipped into his mind.
“How will you know how I taste…if you don’t hurry up?”
His tongue was slow, teasing, at first. Swiping up and down until you pulled harder on his curls. You could feel his smirk against your skin, but he didn’t take the warning. Slender fingers parted your folds, tongue now circling your bud purposefully slow.
Armand’s nails dug into your skin, partly teasing and partly a warning. But it only spurred you on. Your own nails digging deeper into his curls, scraping against his scalp.
Two could play at that game.
With a swift movement, Armand had your legs slung over his shoulders. Nails gripping the flesh to hold you tight against his face. The curve of his nose rubbing perfectly against your pearl, but you bit down hard on your lip to hold back a moan. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction that quickly.
His tongue delved back in quickly, switching completely and devouring everything you had to offer. Eyes locked on yours, waiting for you to break.
But you were a stubborn creature, it seemed.
Armand was relentless. A mix of tongue, teeth and lips, and before long two fingers joined them.
“Come on…I can feel you quivering already…” he murmured, swirling his tongue over your bud as his fingers began to piston in and out of you.
One orgasm quickly became two. And you were bordering on the third almost immediately. Vampire or no, pleasure was pleasure. And it seemed Armand was intent on tearing you apart, delicious piece by delicious piece.
But you still weren’t going to let him break you that easily.
A firmer hand pushed him back, the same hand now holding him down on his back. You could see just a little flicker behind his eyes, a glimmer of submission.
You crawled up his body, letting Armand feel every little movement. Pressing kisses over each bit of skin you began to reveal as he helped you remove his shirt.
Your cunt pulsed at you settled over his stomach, thankful the velvet couches were just a little bit wider than average. Purposeful, of course.
Armand was quick to bring your lips to his, sitting up to throw his shirt out of the way. The torn lace bodysuit was the next to follow, joining the haphazard pile of clothes on the floor. Bare chests now pressed together as a battle for dominance was fought in the kisses.
You could feel Armand shifting to remove his trousers. Your hips lifting as he shimmied them down his legs. Not a single article of clothing lay between you now.
Armand groaned at the feel your bare core against his length, hips rutting instinctively. But you had a little plan for revenge…
You pushed him back down, turning in his lap until your back faced him. And you could barely stifle your shiver as his nails trailed a line down your spine. Head falling back as he continued to trace patterns on your skin. For just a moment, you could pretend you hadn’t been strangers up until only a couple of hours ago.
But desire still coursed through both of your veins.
Your body tilted forward, hands running down the length of his thighs as you felt the muscles of his stomach tighten in anticipation.
And the gasp as your mouth wrapped around his cock was all the satisfaction you needed.
You got your revenge with your own slow pace. Swallowing him down and retreating. Again, and again until his nails began to dig into your back. Moving down to the flesh your backside and squeezing. The groan that left your lips vibrating through his length.
“Payback, hmm?” Armand chuckled, words falling to his own moan as his tip hit the back of your throat.
His hands gripped your hips, tugging you up to hover over his face as he began to lap at your cunt.
It was like a competition, racing to bring the other to completion first. Moans, grunts and growls reverberating throughout the room combined with the wet sounds of lips and tongues.
Your two orgasms became three, nails scratching at his thighs as you spilled over his tongue. But Armand didn’t stop and neither did you. There was much to be said for the use of vampiric stamina, and this was certainly an exciting use for it.
It wasn’t long before Armand pulsed on your tongue, salty precum a welcome appetiser for what soon followed. Spurt after spurt filling your mouth as you swallowed everything you could with moans of satisfaction. He slipped from your lips, your forehead resting against his thigh.
But when he dared to try and pull a fourth orgasm from you, your teeth sunk into the meat of his leg, not to feed. Simply as a warning.
You could see the passing shapes of other patrons beyond the curtains, some even peeking in. And you knew Armand could see it too. The prospect of an audience giving you both a bite of confidence.
Your tongue lapped at the blood that trickled from his thigh before Armand’s hand found your back, making patterns again as your hand palmed over his already semi-hardened cock. You sat back up, hand continuing to move.
“Do you need more, hmm? Or have I satisfied your curiosity?” you teased, Armand’s hand reaching up to toy with your hair.
Your head dropped back, letting him tangle hard into your locks.
“I fear I may never be satisfied, but we can continue to try?”
You had awoken something in Armand, his free hand urging you to turn and settle over his cock.
“Then we will try, and try…”
The hand wrapped in your hair kept you still as he sunk you down onto his cock. A hand on your thigh as you began to slide your soaked walls over his length.
The pace was slower now. Savouring the feel of him sunk deep inside you. Armand’s hand moving from your hair to your breast. Kneading the soft flesh in his hand in time with your hips.
“For someone so sinful, you feel heavenly.” Armand groaned, hips rising to meet yours.
The combined sounds of pleasure echoed in the room, no one outside could doubt what was happening. Armand’s eyes flitted over to the drapes, telekinetically moving the curtain just a little wider.
You were a show worthy of an audience. And he was more than prepared to make it a show worth watching.
Your hips moved faster as pleasure began to overtake you, hands planted on his chest as he took control of the pace. Slamming his hips up into yours until you were chanting his name.
“So beautiful…”
Armand’s words fell to growls as he thrust up a few more times until he painted your walls with his spend. Hands holding your hips tight and holding you down on his cock until he was fully spent.
The exertion overtook you both, Armand more than happy to let you plant your body weight atop him as you relaxed.
His hands ran up and down your back, your lips pressing lazy kisses to his throat and jaw.
No words needed to be exchanged anymore. Not aloud anyway.
“Still curious?” you asked, even your mind’s voice sounded tired.
“I will always be curious about you.” He replied, holding you tighter to his chest.
You really had woken something in him. An escape. A sense of both control and submission.
Freedom.
Armand Taglist:
@lady-phasma @sylasthegrim @anjelicawrites
(If anyone wishes to be added, please let me know!)
#the vampire armand#armand x reader#interview with the vampire#amc interview with the vampire#armand iwtv#armand the vampire#amc iwtv#armand smut
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Alex hirsch interviews always leave me blown away. I could listen to this man talk for hours, he is so inspiring. Definitely the kind of writer I strive to be like.
One of the main things i took away from this interview is how strongly his every word reiterates that his number one priority is the emotions and arcs of the characters. Here’s a couple tangents about that cuz I gotta get them outta my brain:
It became really clear to me on the Fiddleford question about the memory gun and the timeline. He couldn’t even remember how the events lined up but what he DID remember once reminded was the incredibly complex feelings McGucket was having and the specifics of how his friendship with ford was affecting him at that point in time.
It was fascinating to hear because this information was so much more complicated than the initial timeline rearrangement question. Almost all of his answers were like this. So, so deep and thoughtful and it really highlighted the fact that he is a storyteller whose focus is on the important things.
Canon dates and hidden codes and funny jokes are secondary to heart because heart is the big picture. Ppl say it’s the codes and secrets are the “deeper�� part of gf. But the complexities of the characters in and of themselves are INSANELY deep. It becomes especially clear when Alex himself is talking about them. He knows their minds and motivations so well, and it tends to get overshadowed by lore questions but to me the details of the inner working of the characters minds and the psychology of their actions is the MOST interesting information that comes out of these interviews.
I feel like ppl might not agree with me when I say this. But for me the answer about ford looking at romance the same way Tesla does is a way more fascinating idea than concluding definitively that he’s gay (and this is coming from someone who’s written an entire fic about the latter). Because that’s so unique! That’s so different! I’ve never seen that before! It gives him such a distinct and fresh identity and it makes so much sense for him
I myself wasn’t particularly a fan of don’t dimension it before I watched this. Because I had thought that it was humoring the fandoms bad faith gripes about Mabel’s character, but luckily I was wrong! Online media analysis has unfortunately forced a moral priority on most story explorations and I’ll admit I bought into it a bit with this. I thought Mabel was being punished for her personality. But Alex’s incites quelled this worry. The narrative wasn’t blaming Mabel for weirdmageddon, Mabel was blaming Mabel for weirdmageddon. As he explained, she was just experiencing a bit of self awareness for the first time just like dipper did in double dipper.
This interview has made me rethink things a bit. I feel like the very first question a gf fan should ask themselves before building a theory is ‘does this idea compromise the arcs or narrative purpose of the characters?’ If the answer is an immediate yes then it’s not canon full stop, because then it becomes the antithesis of what gravity falls is really about
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On Caitlyn's 180: An Essay
This is all spoiler below. But I NEED to talk about it.
What if this is the exact moment Caitlyn puts everything together, including Vi being one of the children who burglarized Jayce's penthouse.
Hear me out.
So, Caitlyn asks Vi what she's doing there, and Vi says, "Trying to save my dad." She has this little "AHA!" moment.
(go look at the last panel of this gif set rn for more context)
That woman just had an epiphany. Furthermore, the way the music swells at this exact moment just feels like it's clueing in on more than meets the eyes.
She clearly realizes, at minimum, that her and Vi are here for the same thing: Warwick. And then doesn't even really question it. This got me to thinking, "but how she do that though?"
Well, she has all the information she needs to put it together, this is just the first time she's had a reason to pull that SPECIFIC information together.
Let's start with the fact that Caitlyn loves a mystery, and the rise of shimmer is a part of her favorite mystery.
Literally, in her giant bedroom, the only part of it that looks lived in is the big map at the foot of her bed. The show doesn't indicate when exactly this obsession started for Caitlyn, but it makes it clear that it's been on her mind for a very long time. Jayce called it "the great conspiracy," so she definitely talked about it a lot. And Jayce's flippant attitude tells us she's definitely been thinking about it since she was a teenager.
Educated guess, I believe this started with Sheriff Grayson's murder. (a) It would be unsurprising Caitlyn felt a great need to bring justice to the person that murdered someone she cared for. (b) It was a murder that would ultimately become a cold case. (c) Silco being the main conspirator to her murder, the trail would lead her to a larger conspiracy.
And from this scene above, we know that Vi is impressed with what Caitlyn was able to gather without ever going to the Undercity. Which means, we know her board was really close to the truth. Afterall, it did lead her to Vi, who single-handedly led her to the answers she sought.
So, why the hell does this matter in regards to Vi being involved in the burglary?
Caitlyn knows that Grayson's main priority at the time of her death was finding the culprits of the explosion.
Caitlyn's parents clearly involve her in the conversations revolving around the explosion at the penthouse. I don't feel it's a stretch to assume she also knew that the council were putting pressure on Grayson to solve the case.
The explosion of the warehouse happened on the same night as Grayson's murder. While I don't think Caitlyn had a way to really connect the 2 explosions except that they happen within days of each other, I doubt Caitlyn forgets this fact even if she does not connect them initially.
Now you may being wondering why the heck that matters. What does the warehouse have anything to do with it?
Caitlyn was in the ruins of the destroyed warehouse at the end of season 1.
In which she heard this conversation.
Thing is, she was going through an extremely traumatic experience at the time... Then her mom was killed... So I doubt she realized it was the same place nor had the mental capabilities of processing the information. And by the time she did have the capacity to really consider it, she likely had no reason to...at least yet.
Regardless, she's here for this conversation. She now at least knows Vander's name and that he was important to them and that Silco murdered him here.
So, she has her connection here. If she realizes this was the location of the second explosion, she now knows that Grayson and Vander were murdered on the same night. And if she connects it to the penthouse explosion, Grayson's investigation and main focus at the time, she also knows that...
4 children were fleeing the scene.
Seems like everyone knew this within the hour after the explosion. Word spread so fast, Vander knew before the kids even got home. Caitlyn undoubtedly knows about the kids. She just doesn't know who they are, but she has seen them.
Caitlyn has an eye for detail and a mind for investigation. I doubt she lets much fall between the cracks. They didn't leave Ekko's home until it was dark. She had plenty of time to look at this mural, at the 4 children including Vi. Then at the tea party when Jinx starts talking to her hallucinations, she's pointed to...
Again, traumatic experience. Probably not thinking about it that hard, but she did see the puppets. Again, no reason to connect those things yet. But she does now have the context to connect that these 2 other children are important to Vi and Jinx and that they were important enough to be brought to the "tea party."
And because of the mural, she knows that these were real people and that they died.
FURTHERMORE, they undoubtedly know who Vander was by the reputation he left behind.
When that one guy getting tortured gave up Vander's statue as the meeting location, Ambessa's second-hand man, who is not from Zaun OR Piltover, knew exactly where that was. There's no way Caitlyn doesn't also know about the statue. Besides that, she also saw him in the mural. If she's seen this statue, she knows it's the same man.
Caitlyn would now know that Vander is important to the whole undercity. "Well respected."
Lastly, Singed told Ambessa about the man behind the monster.
This one is a bit of a stretch, but think about it. Ambessa has no reason to withhold the information Singed gave her. Here it is below if you want a reminder:
"He isn't a monster. He was once a man. Well respected, at that. Victim of great tragedy. He had a furocious will to live. An incredible tolerance for pain. With him, I was able to make strides impossible with any other specimen. But the mind... the mind I could not recover. The man forever lost in the bowels of the beast, compelled only by the scent of blood. Or so I thought. It now seems I had yet to uncover the right catalyst."
Singed is awfully forthcoming with information once he realizes he doesn't have to hide it from Ambessa. And when Caitlyn walks in on them in Singe's lab, Ambessa makes no effort to hide her current involvement with Singed. AND even if Ambessa realizes Singed is talking about Vander, I highly doubt Ambessa has the information necessary to realize she's literally delivering Caitlyn to a connection to not only Vi, but Jinx.
Caitlyn, however, does have all the information. If Ambessa or Singed told Caitlyn the same info or even more, Caitlyn could likely start making some assumptions on who the man behind the beast is.
She just didn't have a catalyst to put everything together... Again, yet.
And while we're on the topic of this scene...
We learn Caitlyn abhors a gap in information.
Caitlyn talks about the mystery of shimmer, "This led to one other missing puzzle piece whose absence has always gnawed at my mind."
She wants all the details even if it does not add much to the full picture.
She already knows Silco and the chembarons are responsible for the manufacturing and distribution of shimmer. Learning who made it only tells her who made it. It doesn't solve anything or change what she would have to do to stop the spread of shimmer. But she wants to know. She HAS to know.
She wants all the dots to connect and is not satisfied until they do.
So, when Vi says, "Trying to save... my dad."
What if this one sentence was all Caitlyn needs to connect everything she didn't understand before. I mean, how else do you explain that little "aha" head move she does.
There is no way she did not take a greater interested in how the heck Vi was involved to begin with and especially as a child.
Her main focus has been on Jinx: finding her and bringing her to justice. She's been distracted.
What if this is the catalyst, the first time she has a reason to connect all those dots to make what Vi said make sense. And suddenly it all does.
Honestly, it would explain why Caitlyn jumped ship so easily.
In conclusion.
Caitlyn has all the information she needs to connect the dots.
She has the motivations to continue seeking those answers.
She just didn't have the mental opportunity to really consider it... until she did.
Anyway... Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe one "Cupcake" is just not enough to convince me she'd immediately plan a mutiny, but maybe she is that simple! (She's definitely not. *coughs*)
But you know what, even if she didn't glean that Warwick is actually Vander and Vander is Vi's dad in that moment, she definitely knows after this...
So, anyway, I think she definitely knows or is at minimum primed to have the realization. Guess we'll see.
#omg i'm so glad to have that brain worm out of me#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn kiramman#vi arcane#jinx arcane#vander arcane#lol arcane#caitvi#violyn#piltovers finest#piltoversfinest#piltover's finest#vi and caitlyn#singed arcane
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Not so sorted Ghostfuckers thoughts
Firstly, this episode was an improvement over the last few, at least in my opinion - That isn't to say that it's great, or even particularly good, but I can say that I was more invested in this episode, even if only a little. It had more focus on the original concept of the show with an I.M.P mission finally not just being reduced to a short... Though the mission still doesn't take full priority, something I will expand on momentarily.
Before that though, I'll start off with the things I did actually like.
The bankruptcy joke got a quick giggle out of me. It may be that I'm still an immature little homonculus, but the jokes that don't fall into the unnecessarily crude/sexual category still elicit a reaction from me.
This joke got me too - I know that this was almost definitely intended as a jab towards critics, however it loops back around to being funny to me, as I joke a lot about being "objectively correct".
These frames of Moxxie specifically - I love him a lot and wish he was in a show that took better care with its character writing
I enjoyed seeing the flashback designs for the I.M.P crew - Moxxie isn't too different, but I actually sort of prefer the others past looks here.
Lastly, this specific moment/line! This is a massive improvement over what was given to us in those leaked boards - In the original boards, I had a hard time believing that Millie would have this suicidal fit out of seemingly nowhere because... Some other demon told her she was a bad wife? This is a much more "in character" line for Millie, given what we already knew about her as an audience (which admittedly, wasn't a lot, but she never gave off the sort of insecurity/suicidal ideation that the original boards appeared to have been pushing for).
I think I've gotten all the praise I can wring out of my system - Now comes all the issues I take with this newest episode. These criticisms come in no particular order.
There's the usual thought that comes whenever a new episode drops - The swearing and sexual humour is too frequent and over the top. I'm an enjoyer of well placed crude and sexual humour, but this isn't well placed. With every second line containing profanity, innuendo, or explicit sexual content, they become less and less special and interesting to hear, to the point that watching characters interact becomes a slog.
Blitz is supposedly having this month long breakdown because... He had a breakup that wasn't really a breakup? He himself admits they were never in a relationship, and gets upset at the concept that him and Stolas will never be together. Obvious criticism of Stolitz notwithstanding, until Apology Tour, there have been no genuine moments of "love" between the two - This all comes off more as Blitz mourning this potential (now dead) relationship because the writers feel it's time for him to do so, without selling to the audience why he would give a damn about Stolas in the first place. I hardly believe Stolas and his pining back in Ozzie's, let alone the shameless display that we're getting now.
Speaking of Stolas, this is a perfect segue into what I said I was going to expand upon further down in this post; despite this episode having an I.M.P mission be a main setting, that's all it is - A setting. I wouldn't mind so much if this was purely for character building, but it's yet another instance of things happening because of Stolas. This feathered fuck haunts the narrative even when he's not present! The mission is presented more as an avenue of helping Blitz "get over" Stolas as opposed to just being a job that the members of I.M.P need to, you know, live.
Speaking of, how financially stable are I.M.P and its employees? Despite having nearly two seasons to expand on the concept of a business owned by the lowest caste of Hell's systems, nothing is done with it. With a setup like that, there should at least be some narrative drama involving the company facing challenges and instances of being in financial dire straights. Instead of this however, Blitz is able to blow a months worth of money on useless knick-knacks and owls to burn? With no real show of consequence as a result of this?
While I enjoyed seeing a bit of Millie backstory and her relationship to Blitz, Helluva still suffers from its "tell don't show" rule. Millie mentions she loves to have fun with Blitz, but we have never seen an instance of these two having fun together in show.
Honestly, the backstory of Blitz/Millie's meet and subsequent partnership should have been its own episode; we could have actually seen her steal the target from I.M.P as a solo assassin, we could have seen the state of I.M.P before her addition - If you wanted a bit of shipping fuel, you could also have an instance of Moxxie being too starstruck by this mysterious, wrathful rival to take a shot on her. So many possibilities! All wasted.
Millie's development episode shouldn't have come at the tail end of season two - She's been in the show since episode ONE, she deserved something in the first season to flesh her out.
I do not buy her reasoning for looking up to Blitz; if she thinks of herself as only a simple country girl or a brute, this would have been nice to actually see hinted to us throughout the show.
The casual ableism in the joke about the Hotel Owner's new cleaner - Not only is the way he is depicted simply dehumanising, framing him as this object of disgust rather than a person, this is driven further by being called a "poor thing" and only being reacted to with vague disgust by Blitz and Millie. And of course he's barely verbal, with the exception of a funny swear word (/sarc).
The whole sequence where Blitz is alone and being tormented by visions of Millie and Tilla is... It sure exists. Subtlety is lost in most of this dialogue here as once again, we are bluntly told what the problem with Blitz is - We know he makes decisions that fuck over others for his own benefit, we know he's selfish. We've seen this time and again!! This is not something that needed to be explicitly spoken for what feels like the millionth time in this (so far) two-season run.
Speaking of mothers! Millie and Loona get shafted into a role of taking care of their respective man for the episode - As a matter of fact, both their conversations involve Blitz or Moxxie. After nearly two seasons, I don't think they've had a conversation that wasn't about their male coworkers/relationships.
What is an infestor demon? Have they shown up before? What in God's name am I supposed to know about them? Somehow when it comes to worldbuilding, the need to explain everything explicitly is gone.
Why is Blitz being emotionally tortured again while Stolas sees no real consequence? This is getting to be a really tired pattern.
The whole ghostfucking bit was already testing my patience within the first couple of minutes.
Anyway, that's all I have of like... More surface level critiques of this episode. I'll probably make a few more minor posts about this episode later and elaborate on some new thing my brain is sticking to.
#helluva critical#hazbin critical#vivziepop critical#stolas critical#stolitz critical#<- if you squint?#🎪 critiques
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speculating about the season 3 peepers villain arc
lately I've been thinking about season 3 again and I wanna cope with the fact it won't happen soon, so I want to talk about one of its concepts
(IT'S GONNA HAPPEN MAN, JUST WAIT UNTIL NEW PPG PROJECT AND THE NEW FOSTER'S HOME ARE ACTUALLY DONE)
something that's always piqued my interest was the mention of "peepers being tempted by the darker side" in official season 3 posts. (you know which, we've seen them all). it's not the only one there that interested me, but some concepts like the three new villains due for season 3 were actually deconfirmed by Craig himself in a Twitter q&a, and instead said it would be an existing character.
(I think. I'm not sure about that one)
see, things like that always change when everything is actually in production. I actually wanna make an entirely different post dedicated to the main antagonist and/or conflict because there's a lot of stuff to discuss there. but something that I truly think WILL make it into season 3 will be peepers' villain arc. I think there's a chance they could build off what's already in the show to lead up to this arc.
a quick recap of his attitude towards hater
in season 1, it's clear peepers tended to stay on hater's good side, since he still (somewhat) respected hater's actions in a way since he's been with him for so long + he only followed hater's goal of destroying wander and sylvia since they were their ONLY obstacle in their goal to rule the galaxy
I used this frame specifically because it's one of the only times he scolds hater in season 1 (maybe the only time, I forgot), and even then he's still scared to do so since hater even threatens him after this
and as we all know, by the end of season 1 and season 2 in general, he scolds hater A LOT more often because dominator's arrival spelled doom for the entire galaxy, even the villains. even before that, it was clear hater's obsession with wander was damaging the reputation of the empire, and hell other villains were even beating him on the leaderboard. by the greater hater, he's reduced to the 29th greatest. and now if you add hater's failure to initially properly focus on restoring his control over planets to putting his obsessions (wander in the beginning, dominator by the end) at priority equals one very pissed peepers.
in this particular frame, we all know this is a big moment in which peepers loses it and truly gets mad at hater for losing complete focus.
so when he finally locks in during the season finale it shocks peepers so much it moves him to literal tears. this man has been disappointed so much this season that this final move has made him truly happy. from my fair hatey to this episode, hater's ultimate goal is to save the galaxy to be able to conquer it again. so when that goal is accomplished he finally goes back to doing evil and attempts to conquer the secret final planet, peepers is literally so happy he has a heart eye. (not even close to being straight)
of course he's disappointed once more when hater begins to chase wander again.
"nothing ever changes."
2. peepers has greater plans for himself
"the universe will be mine!"
"if you ask me, I should be the one in charge."
I'm pretty sure I'm missing more moments where he shows an interest in becoming a great villain on his own. in general, it's made very clear that peepers is much more competent than hater. hell even evil sandwich has described him as a "smart guy who actually knows what evil is all about."
3. I FINALLY SPECULATE ABOUT THE VILLAIN ARC
So with all that background information out of the way, we reach the actual speculation.
these Tumblr posts by Frank Angones about season 3 are what got me to write this post. with this info in mind, I have a little scenario to share here
at the beginning of season 3, Hater would become a hero to the galaxy (following up from the ending to the end of the galaxy), and even though he tried conquering planets, he wound up either not conquering them or doing good deeds instead, to his own—and peepers'—dismay. again, taking the end of the galaxy's ending in mind, he clearly intended to conquer the new galaxy. however, it's clear he's definitely not as willing to do so and admits to peepers at one point that he tends to think about not being a bad guy. this of course breaks peepers' heart (yeah in that way too), and in a fit of rage leaves the empire.
he escapes to somewhere (idk where) and from there the antagonist(s) of season 3 either pick him up or kidnap him. from there they show peepers their ways and begin tempting him to join them.
from there more new scenarios can be made, depending on their motivation. Frank Angones has also stated that "there are worse fates than galactic destruction". in a future post about the season 3 antagonist(s), I'll explain more about what this could mean. since the post only says he could be tempted, we don't know if he would actually temporarily switch to their side.
if peepers joins an antagonist: he likely takes in their ideologies and hater (?) may have to remind him of his evil ways or something
if peepers declines: he realizes who he is to the hater empire and makes a move against the antagonist
secret options: the darker side is actually an actual villain (the antagonist(s) aren't "villains" like hater and dominator)
the scenarios are similar but I'll share them
if peepers joins them: he uses his knowledge and evil traits to the max to begin committing atrocities and stuff like that. hater and/or wander has to do something about it
if peepers declines: he realizes the villain is insane and goes back to hater (very, very, very small chance for a redemption, but maybe it will because wander can help him or something)
(I'm iffy on this one)
4. one final piece of speculation related to his backstory
when writing this post, I made two and two and found out something.
I don't tend to trust fandom wikis that much, but since the information seems to be accurate and aligns with what Frank is saying, I think all this implies the watchdogs mock peepers a LOT for being the shortest watchdog. what's also slightly implied is that his napoleon complex (in which he happens to be insecure about his height, which has been shown quite a bit in the series itself. "you are tall" being part of his motivational tapes, wander raises his soles to give him a sense of growth, the platform boots as a gift).
so if this is a big part of his origin story, I assume that way before he joined the hater empire with the other watchdogs, peepers was mocked for being the shortest. so when he and the watchdogs pledge allegiance to the empire, he "feels like he has something to prove", and begins from the bottom like most of the watchdogs until he's done so many evil things that hater notices him and promotes him to commander.
so now with that in mind, it makes sense why peepers would lose his mind over hater potentially giving up evil after pretty much devoting himself to evil for so long
once again, I yapped what I needed to yap and I'm satisfied
oh my god I spent like almost 3 hours researching and writing for this dear GROP
Edit: now that I think about it the way he said the line about the watchdogs feeling special and important in their interviews was actually kind of spiteful, which makes sense (poor guy wants to feel like that more often.....)
#wander over yonder#woy#woy commander peepers#woy watchdogs#watchdogs#lord hater#woy lord hater#commander peepers#woy theory#wander over yonder theory#wander over yonder season 3#save woy#save wander over yonder#woy season 3#wander over yonder season three
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Lecture Notes | Jake Sim
Summary: In which Y/N, a college student, can’t seem to focus in her psychology lecture due to an attractive boy. The culprit? Apparently his name is Jake.
Word Count; 4.5k
Isn’t it funny how a man can completely derail your priorities? Okay, let me explain myself.
There I was, sitting in my psychology lecture, notebook open, wearing my comfiest sweater and sweatpants. After all, it was a Friday lecture. I was mentally done with the week and already planning out my watchlist of movies for the weekend. And of course, studying, (If I had time…)
What was comical about that Friday, and almost a quarter of the semester's lectures, my notes would start out strong, really organized. I’m talking color coded with six different colors; light blue, peach, neon pink, yellow, pastel green, and a very pretty shade of lavender. Bullet pointed, sectioned by main and sub topics. The whole nine yards. But then, after about a page, the notes would start to look sloppy, then, absolutely nothing. I paid the price on my midterm for the lack of proper note taking by the way. Sorry to Sigmund Freud. Upon first inspection, it would seem like psychology is not my strong suite. But that argument is easily debunked by my last A grade from my last semester's psychology class.
So, what’s the problem? Well, it’s this guy. And in my defense, I see other girls getting distracted by him too! Which I secretly hate, but hey, he’s not my boyfriend. I’ve had one encounter with him, three weeks ago, a Monday to be exact. He sat in front of me and handed me a paper that needed to be passed back. Our fingers touched and I noticed how calloused they had felt. Call me a loser, but I sat there for the rest of the lecture hypothesizing why his fingers felt so rough. Yet again, I completely fault myself for doing so badly on that midterm.
His name is Jake. The reason I know his name is because I heard the professor call him by his name a few times. All I really know about him is that he comes into class routinely late. In the beginning of the semester, he would come in 5 minutes late. At first the professor took notice and called him out, but after the second week, he for some reason seemed to look the other way and Jake started showing up 10 minutes late, which has become the norm. He tip-toes to wherever his friend is sitting, high-fiving him and slinking down in his seat. But, I’ll give him credit, once he actually makes it to class, he takes a lot of notes, occasionally volunteering an answer or question. I don’t know what it is about him. Maybe his voice? It’s really calming, he’s pretty soft-spoken. Plus, the fact that he has an accent, my guess would be Australian? But I don’t know that many people with accents so maybe he’s English? I’ll probably never know…Or maybe it’s his eyes that make him so attractive? He has these kind, brown eyes. To me, he’s just intriguing. I know nothing about him other than the fact that his time management skills are horrible and he has a large group of friends. I see him around on campus a lot. A swarm of people follow him around, always laughing. I also can’t help but notice the rotation of girls that seem to be on his arm every other week. They always look so happy with him. Usually the girl is walking with him, staring at him adoringly, but he’s always looking straight ahead. I never understood that.
And not too long after I see him with one girl, there’s a new one doing the exact same thing. Right after I had that passing the paper back encounter with him, I saw him walking on campus with this girl. Like I said, normally, he’s looking straight ahead, but this particular time, he looked right at me as we passed each other. I quickly averted my gaze away from him, internally screaming all the way back to my dorm room.
One time I went to a party with a friend of mine. She made me go, and said it would be fun. What a liar… So I get there, the dorm room is packed, barely any room to move around. The room was decorated with LED lights that were all red, I swear it looked like a rave or something. Turns out, I have claustrophobia by the way. I felt like I couldn’t breathe due to the lack of personal space. I saw Jake there, which in hindsight wasn’t very surprising because it seemed like my whole campus was trying to fit into that dorm room and hallway. I sat in the corner with my friend who 20 minutes into the party was also starting to come down with a case of party-goer's remorse. I watched from that stool in the corner as he danced with his date. How they made out against the wall. I even watched when he stumbled to the cooler to get another drink, obviously drunk. Then I saw him wander back over to her, and accidently spill his drink all over her blouse. The people in the surrounding area all went Oooooo, and the girl gasped. Stomping her foot, she yelled out, “What the fuck Jake?! You did that on purpose!” Then she shoved him. Now, in her defense, I could see that he was trying to conceal his laughter as he handed out some half-assed apology. She stormed out of the party, leaving him and his friends in hysterics. “Babe, I’m sorry, but accidents happen.” Jake threw his hands up defensively as his friends laughed at her. That next Monday in class I didn’t even notice that he had snuck in. And for a few days, I honestly thought I was over my little infatuation with Jake. I choked it up to him being an attractive douchebag.
But remember, I said I thought I got over my infatuation. And here I am. Sitting in class, empty seat to my right. The person who usually sat there, a guy with a buzzcut who always came in with a cup of coffee from the coffee cart outside and his giant water bottle, was seemingly missing. Overall, a quiet guy. The few times I had spoken to him had been pleasant. Just a few basic, ‘Hey's' and ‘Nice weather, right?’ or even a ‘Nervous about the exam?’.
15 minutes into my lecture. It was a rainy day. I already mentioned my lecture attire, my sweater, a tan colored cozy knit one and my black sweatpants. My notes were organized and I was actually pretty invested in the topic today. Everything was going well, but I couldn’t wait to be done for the day and back in my bed. After all, it was cold and dark outside. But then, the sound of the door creaking open, the gust of wind that came along with it hitting me and making me shiver. I didn’t even have to look up to know who it was. I could hear his footsteps, searching for wherever his friend was sitting. But this time, the footsteps started to sound more frantic. I could hear him pacing, but I refused to look in his direction. After all, I was supposed to be focused on my professor, not him. And I saw first hand how much of an inconsiderate jerk he could be at that party. He wasn’t worth the distraction and another week of incomplete lecture notes. Then the footsteps started to get closer. Going from a distant tapping sound to almost a persistent stomp.
And that’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Um, excuse me?” That familiar voice, just a whisper, was now in my ear. “Is anyone sitting here?” I looked up at him, taking note of his beautiful smile as I nodded my head yes to his question. His closed lip smile transformed into a full toothed one, “Thanks!” he said enthusiastically. I quickly looked back down at my notebook, scribbling down what was on the board. I suddenly felt hyperconscious of my breathing. How loud or erratic it may have sounded to the insanely attractive Australian next to me. I wondered if he could hear me swallowing. And I prayed that my stomach wouldn’t make any noise for the rest of the class, considering I felt myself becoming hungry. I tried to be as quiet as possible. Also trying to make sure that my elbow didn’t accidentally touch his. A few minutes later, I felt him nudge my arm. At first I didn’t look because I thought it was a mistake. “Excuse me?”, he whispered again. I turned my head to face him, looking over expectantly as I waited for him to continue asking his question “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, but would you mind if I looked at your notes? I know I should have gotten here sooner… I get it though if you don’t want to share…” he rambled. I held up my hand up in front of his face, stopping him from whispering.
“Sure, I don’t mind.” I shrugged as I moved my notebook closer to him.
“Thank you so much!” he exclaimed as he started to copy them down.
“No problem.” I replied. Well, there goes another week of half-complete notes, I thought to myself as I tried to refocus my attention back on the professor. By the end of the lecture, Jake had taken down all my notes and I had missed the second half of the lecture. As I started to pack up my things and head out, Jake did the same. Normally he rushes right out and has a group of people waiting for him outside of the lecture hall. Today, he was lingering. And then just as I was zipping up my bag, he cleared his throat. I looked up at him and he stared back at me, looking like he wanted to say something.
“I just wanted to say thank you again for letting me copy the notes down. You have great note taking skills, not to mention, really nice handwriting.” He complimented me, that same warm smile on his face. I couldn’t understand how someone could appear to be so kind, yet come off as so inconsiderate of other people. Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but admit that I was flattered by the compliment.
“Oh, thank you. I actually always thought my handwriting was sloppy.” I responded back. Throwing my bag over my shoulder and pushing my chair in. I stared out the window, noticing the light rain had now turned into a heavy downpour. I groaned as I laid my bag back on the table, unzipping it and pulling out my jacket and umbrella. Jake looked at me in confusion upon hearing me groan, before peeking past my shoulder and letting out an understanding ‘Ah’ before doing the same as me. We stood in silence as we both put on our jackets. I made the first move to leave, though he was closest to the aisle. He made no attempt to move as I tried to maneuver around him.
He stopped me again, speaking up, “I feel kind of bad. You missed out on taking notes for the second half of the lecture because of me.” He continued, moving out of my way. “Do you have any other classes today?” he questioned. I pursed my lips together as I tried to figure out a response to his first statement and more importantly, what he was trying to imply with the question regarding my schedule.
“Well, first of all, it’s okay, I was paying attention so I’ll probably just go home and try to write whatever I remember down. But to answer your question, no I don’t have any other classes today.” I decided to be truthful with him, as I assumed he was just asking me to be nice for letting him copy my notes.
“So you were going back to your dorm after this?” He raised his eyebrow. I let out an awkward laugh.
“Um, yeah, it’s a torrential downpour out there, my hiking plans have been ruined for the rest of the day.” I responded sarcastically. To my snarky response, his warm smile now morphed into a devilish grin.
“Instead of sitting inside all night, why don’t I buy you a coffee and give you the rest of the notes” Jake proposed. To that question, I gave him a puzzled look.
“But you didn’t get the rest of the notes either?” I responded back, confused.
“Yeah, but the professor keeps a copy of the lecture notes in that desk over there. And luckily for you, I know how to pick locks.” He bragged, pulling something pointy out of his pocket as he started to make his way down the steps towards the professor's desk.
“Wait, doesn’t he take his lesson plan with him?” I called out after him, looking around the two exits nervously, expecting someone to come in and catch Jake breaking into the professor’s locked drawer.
“Not on Fridays. You’d be surprised how many of the professors leave things out in plain sight.” He explained as he bent down so he was eye level with the drawer. He pulled out a lock pick and got to work. His eyes focused intently on the drawer.
“But this isn’t out in plain sight, you’re literally picking his lock…” You tried to rationalize.
“So…Who cares, he already taught it. It’s not like we’re cheating. We’re just going to get the notes and I’ll sneak back in and put it back before Monday morning. I do it all the time.” He got silent for a minute before he jumped up. “Aha!” and with that, the drawer was open. He pulled out the lecture plan, before he grabbed your hand with his free one and started running up the stairs. I tried to keep up with him, your head spinning by how weird your seemingly calm Friday had become. “Grab your bag. You know the coffee shop across from this building right?” He asked. I squinted my eyes before nodding as I threw my bag over my shoulder. “By the way…What’s your name?” Jake titled his head at you, waiting for a response.
“I’m Y/N.” I responded back, extended out my hand for a handshake. He smiled at me, making my heart sort of melt, before placing his hand in mine.
“Jake.” He said, and you pretended to act like you learning his name was a recent development.
“Nice to meet you, Jake”. I grinned as we both made your way out of the huge lecture doors. What was supposed to be a boring Friday just turned into one of the most surprising days of my life. By the time we made it to the coffee shop, fighting our way through the rain, and fully situated in the back of the coffee shop 10 minutes later, you pondered if all this really was going to amount to was a study date?You wondered if he had his next girl of the week yet? Or worse, what if you’d end up being his next temporary fix? You ended up telling yourself that you wouldn’t know how this would all pan out unless you gave him a chance. Part of you wanted to abandon whatever this was with Jake to go back to your dorm. A place where you didn’t feel self conscious in front of hot guys. The other part of you was really tempted to stay and try and see if there was more to him other than a cute accent, a rebellious streak and inviting eyes. I watched him closely, his back turned to face the counter as he placed the two orders. I noticed a friend of his had snuck up behind him, patting him on the back as they greeted each other. They were murmuring something to each other and I decided to look away before he caught me. I looked down at my phone as a way to look busy, but readjusted myself in the seat so I could get a small glimpse of Jake and his friend through my peripheral. All I could tell was that the conversation was light hearted, I heard something about an exam, a party over the weekend and then I heard his friend ask if he was at the coffee shop alone…To which I could see Jake out of the corner of my eye turn towards me. But they got kind of quiet as I assumed he was saying something about to his friend. I pretended to keep scrolling through my phone, even though I really had nothing to do on there. I texted my friend, who had hopefully finished all of her classes for the day. But to be honest, she was quite unreliable since she took a long time to respond to text messages. However this time after sending a quick, Hey, she surprisingly responded back almost instantly.
Hey! Done with all your classes?, she wrote.
Yeah. Going to go home pretty soon., I texted back.
Oh, you’re not home now? I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie? I have snaaacks… Now I’ll be frank, that offer did sound tempting.
I want to but I’m at the coffee shop trying to get some notes from this guy for my psychology class. It’s a long story. You explained.
WHO?! Anyone we know?, she questioned.
That guy Jake who I thought was cute…, I typed back.
Girl no! He’s such an asshole, remember that party?-
But before I could read the rest of her message, Jake appeared in front of me, setting down my coffee and sliding into the seat across from me. He gave me that beaming smile of his I had seen quite a lot of today. “Sorry, that took so long. I don’t know if you saw but that was my friend Jay.” He explained as he waved at his friend who was now on his way out of the coffee shop.
“Oh, no problem, the longer I sit here, hopefully the rain slows down and it’ll make the walk back to my dorm easier. But you didn’t take that long so don’t apologize.” I reassured Jake as he nodded understandingly. Jake stared at me for a minute, before opening and then closing his mouth, hesitant to speak. “What?”, I questioned, grinning at him. His eyes went wide, as he tried to conceal his smile. “No seriously? You looked like you were going to say something!”, I teased him, waving your hand for him to continue.
“No, it’s stupid.” he said under his breath. I hummed in response.
“Almost everything is stupid. Plus, I don’t judge.” I lied. The truth is, I can be pretty judgmental. Hey, I thought I had written Jake off as a douchebag, and I still wasn’t completely comfortable letting my guard down in front of him just yet.
“I don’t know, I just wish we had spoken to each other sooner. I’ve seen you around campus a few times and I knew we had a class together. But I never sat near you or anything pther than a few weeks ago...” He explained, avoiding eye contact with you. I took a sip of my coffee as I listened to Jake intently. “Plus, I know most people probably already formed their opinions of me…” He concluded.
“What do you mean?” I questioned, furrowing my eyebrows at him. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“Well, I come in late almost every class. And I know that’s fully on me. But I’m sure you’ve noticed?” he looked up at you hesitantly. I nodded my head in agreement and he groaned. You chuckled before trying to make him feel better.
“The professor doesn’t seem to care, so maybe it’s not a big deal? If it really bothered him, you probably would’ve been kicked out of the class.” I rationalized.
“He did want to kick me out of the class. Apparently my Dad made a phone call, they know each other from college. I got an angry call from him, telling me I was an embarrassment to the family, that I wouldn’t amount to anything, needed to get my act together, blah, blah, blah.” Jake’s voice got deeper, no, more frustrated as he looked as if he was thinking back to that said phone call. You leaned your arms on the table as you listened to him.
"Well…can I ask you a question if you promise to not get mad?” I tilted my head at him. He took a sip of his coffee as he hummed in response. “Why exactly do you come to class late?” He put down his coffee as he sighed again.
“Honestly? My other class is a business law one. It’s on the other side of the campus. One time I just skipped it, which was why I was on time for psychology. I explained it to my advisor and my father, but I can’t drop it because I need the credits. Whoever designed this campus was an idiot in my opinion.” He stated as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“That actually makes a lot of sense. I assumed that you just didn’t care enough to show up on time. But you always seemed interested because you’d ask a lot of questions so I was always kind of confused by the whole showing up late thing.” I explained as Jake kept his eyes on me. “Second question…how the hell did you get into the habit of picking locks to get the lecture plan.” I giggled, covering my mouth as he himself started to laugh.
“It was actually back in freshman year. I had been one of the last people in the room with a professor on a Friday. I noticed that she had left the lesson plan in her drawer. I needed a few more notes so I went down after she left the room and picked the lock. That was something I learned to do back when I was a kid. But all I did was copy what I needed and I put it back, I swear.” He explained, throwing his hands up defensively.
“Hey, I believe you. And if I didn’t say it before, I’m really thankful that you wanted to help me with the notes. You didn’t have to…” I responded.
“No, after all you did, it was only right. And now look, we got to know each other. I’m having a good time with you.” He confessed, fidgeting with his coffee cup. I mimicked his movements, starting to feel a little antsy. I toyed with the idea of laying out everything I was feeling about Jake with him. I was feeling unsure if he was truly just going to give me the notes and that would be it. I wondered if he just saw me as a potential friend. And of course, maybe he was into me, but I had no desire to date him for a week and then have to go the rest of college seeing a guy who dumped me around campus for two more years. But I guess I made the decision easy, because before I knew it, I was involuntarily blurting out all of my intrusive thoughts.
“Okay, I just have to ask now. I want to be transparent with you. I was aware of you before we officially met today. I also saw you around campus a lot. Is this simply just an exchange of notes and nothing more? It’s okay if that’s what this is, I mean, I get it. Or is this just you trying to be my friend? That’s fine too.” I halted my speech for a second, looking into his eyes. Now he was the one motioning for me to continue. His expression was more so on the serious side now as he waited to hear me out. “Or, um, are you interested in me? Oh god…” I hid my face in my hands as I mentally slapped myself for saying something that sounded so self absorbed. “I feel like an idiot. You probably have a girlfriend already, I always see you around campus with a different girl.” I decided I didn’t really need the notes after all. After all, what was another mediocre test grade? At least the first half of the notes were written down for the week, right? I stood up quickly, reaching for my coat and quickly throwing a few dollars on the table, a repayment for the coffee, though he hadn’t asked me to pay him back.
Jake quickly stood up, grabbing my hand, stopping me from reaching for my coat. “Wait, wait, wait. You didn’t even let me answer” He laughed lightheartedly as he tried to persuade you to sit back down. “I didn’t realize I was sending out so many mixed signals. I thought when I said that whole thing about seeing you around and wanting to talk to you, I made myself clear…” He rambled. But I was still confused by what he meant. And by the look on his face, he could tell you were still confused. “To be straight forward, yes. I sort of had the intention of asking you out. I like you.” I couldn’t help but feel my heart flutter upon hearing that. Then he continued, “I like how sarcastic you can be. And I really find how honest you are attractive, not to mention I think you’re gorgeous.” I hid my face again, but this time, he murmured no and raised your chin up so that you were looking right at him. “I thought this would be a great way to continue talking. I didn’t want to ask you out earlier because I didn’t want you to say no since we spent most of class just sitting, not really talking.” Jake explained. “And for the record, not all of those girls were people I was going out with. I went out with two different girls between freshman year and now. The rest have all been friends.”
I thought back to that party. The girl he was with who he spilled the drink on. I assumed the girl from the party was most likely his ex-girlfriend. Though I was still curious, I didn’t want to pry. At first you didn’t know how to respond to him. Overall, you were ecstatic on the inside. “I’m willing to go on an actual date with you. But preferably, not when it's thundering and down pouring.” I joked as I turned my head toward the huge coffee shop window.
“I agree.” Jake responded, laughing. “But, how about we wait the storm out here and I’ll walk you back to your dorm later?” You both looked at each other, smiling. You couldn’t help the blush that was now creeping up on your cheeks.
"After the notes though! That’s how this all started…” I said as we both pulled out our notebooks. Two hours later, another coffee, two sandwiches and a 10 minute walk to my dorm, I had a date scheduled for tomorrow night, exchanged phone numbers and a long story to tell my friend. And to think it was all thanks to notes…
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen fic#enhypen jake#jake sim#sim jake#jake sim x reader#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fanfic#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#jake fanfic#enhypen fluff#jay enhypen#jake sim imagines#sim jaeyun x reader#fanfiction
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okay, ignore the previous ask, i can't be more blind and stupid (💀).
so, if it isn't a bother, may you write some headcanons about the kings (satan, mammon, beelzebub and leviathan) with a reader who's slightly chubby and dislikes their (reader's) body.
thanks in advance, dear.
–☕ (wishing to end myself after this one.)
Hi ! Thank you so much for your request and congratulations for being the first request that is not about sex lol I needed a break.
Here it is! I loved writing this request and I hope you like it ♡
It's a bit OOC in some parts (Leviathan), but in my defense, it's not easy to write fluff about them.
Also, I'm sorry if I didn't focus much on the body type part, I'm not a great fan of specifying the reader's body type, race, and sometimes even height, but it's okay! I tried my best.
Also, this is my contribution to the soft and sweet Mammon HC.
𝗪𝗛𝗕
𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦
"𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨"
♡
𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗡
✮ He’s in denial, Satan has you on a pedestal and he genuinely cannot believe that you think this way about yourself, simply because it’s a completely different opinion than the one he has of you.
✮ If you dare to mention any discomfort with your appearance in front of him, he will laugh in your face telling you to stop joking about such things, and when you look at him completely serious he might realize that he was wrong.
✮ Satan genuinely doesn't have any specific body preference, in his eyes you’re perfect, all he cares about is that you’re healthy both physically and mentally.
✮ Once he fully realizes, you won't EVER hear him joking about it, and if someone else dared to they’re dead within seconds. The same goes for you "jokingly" mistreating yourself, that's the biggest offense for him and the lecture your life awaits you.
✮ This situation would become a priority for satan, he's capable of leaving aside all his work just to do the impossible to make you feel better about yourself.
✮ He gets very frustrated every time you talk negatively about yourself, and he feels sad every time he notices that you feel insecure about your body, Satan somehow puts himself in your shoes, and that makes him take everything too seriously.
“Stop looking at yourself like that, I know what you're thinking and I don't like it” He hugs you from behind "Let's talk, you're too pretty to be thinking those things"
𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗭𝗘𝗕𝗨𝗕
✮ He might believe that you’re joking if you tell him, and he also might jokingly tell you something like “Yeah, I don’t like your body either” Clearly no offense intended, he would genuinely think that you’re not being serious.
✮ Beelzebub won’t realize that his “Harmless comment” made you feel bad unless someone else tells him that he screwed up, probably many days later he will approach you and actually apologize.
✮ Don’t expect any elaborate apologies from him, he will tell you what is necessary. But after he has taken a long time trying to remember everything you said to him that day, he will subtly start looking for ways to make you feel better about yourself.
✮ Believe me, Beelzebub is going to make sure you hear every chance he gets about how perfect you are, and in case he forgets to tell you, Bael is under strict orders to remind him.
✮ He’s really supportive but he sucks at showing it, his main goal is to distract you from your insecurity by at the same time trying to not distract himself, and somehow, it works.
"And who said that being yourself is not okay? As long as that beautiful body of yours is well-fed and healthy, you are the hottest person out there"
𝗠𝗔𝗠𝗠𝗢𝗡
✮ He would get offended, but like, really offended, the moment he notices or when you tell him about it he acts like those Latina grandmas when their grandchild tells them they're gay,
literally him.
✮ He's never seen anyone more ethereal than you, how do you even dare to dislike yourself?
✮ He genuinely doesn’t care about your body type, your weight, etc, as long as you’re healthy he’s going to love every part of you.
✮ He’s an amazing listener, Mammon will encourage you to vent to him while he slowly caresses your hair, and every time you say something he’s not okay with, he kisses your forehead.
✮ He wouldn't think you're joking, the opposite, Mammon would take this really seriously, but like, too seriously, to the point where you’re not getting out of Tartaros without loving your body as much as he loves it, and believe me, that’s a lot.
“How can you hate such a beautiful body like yours? Every inch of you is perfect and just looking at you feels like a privilege, so don't overthink too much please”
𝗟𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡
✮ Leviathan will genuinely get mad at you, if he finds out, he will ignore you, and if you tell him, he will leave and ignore you too, but it’s temporary, he will get over it in a few days.
✮ He kind of sucks at comforting people, but he can and will try his best with you, just don’t expect much from him, and know that he’s genuine about it.
✮ He will make an annoyed face every time you comment something negative about yourself, and trust me, you will notice.
✮ Leviathan has a very good memory, and he’ll make a mental note of every part of your body that you mention that you don’t like, and every chance he gets he will make sure to kiss or caress that part. He won’t be very obvious, but somehow, he will find a way to discreetly improve your opinion of yourself.
✮ He would hang anyone who dared to make jokes about your body, and would also hang anyone who complimented you, only he has the right to do that.
✮ And on those days when you feel particularly bad about your body, Leviathan will be sure to find a way to distract you with something else, he’s very observant so he wouldn’t need to listen to you to know how you feel, he’ll just suddenly leave his work for a few hours and take you to one of your favorite places, even if he hates the place, he hates more that you have a bad opinion of yourself.
“Get those thoughts out of your head, people should be jealous of how you look, okay? Don't be ridiculous”
#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in “hell” is bad?#whb#whb satan#whb beelzebub#what in hell is bad x reader#whb mammon#whb leviathan#whb leviathan x reader#whb satan x reader#whb mammon x reader#whb beelzebub x reader
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Household Spirits
Household sprits are personal favorite of mine. There are many examples in media of homes being alive or sentient. A famous Slavic example is the walking home of the Baba Yaga. In Western culture, we have the Castle from Howl's Moving Castle; if not from the book, then from the famous Studio Ghibli film of the same name. And seen in an absolute favorite film of mine, the 2006 animated film Monster House.
Now, what is a household spirit?
Simply, an entity or energy that specifically protects the home and Household
(Some may see their home as an energy/feeling in the home. If this energy is truly a Spirit or just the energy given to the home I’m unsure. So, for the sake of this topic, I will also be calling this energy a Household Spirit.)
There are two main categories of this Spirit. That of Deities and those of lesser Spirits.
House Deities are much more powerful and grand. They focus not on one home but many or all.
An example of a household Deity could be the Greek Goddess of Hearth; Hestia.
As for the lesser forms, they are more local. Focused on individual homes and households. They are a Spirit for the people.
Some examples of these Spirits are...
Brownies, Scottish (also taken by Irish)
Kobold/Hobgoblin, German
Lares, Roman
Gasin, Korea
Domovoy, Slavic
Nissie, Norwegian
These Spirits, as one can assume, were worshiped in the home. Some would have a small Idol/Effigy to represent the Spirit on a shrine, while others were seen more as members of the family. Going as far as to even invite them for family meals.
Personally I find caring for a household Spirit to be a priority. If nothing else they help fill one's home with wanted healthy energy. As an ignored home and Household Spirit can become dull, ill, or tired. Leading the home to become more susceptible to unwanted hauntings and negative energy filling the space.
For myself, my Household Spirit is genuinely one of my favorites to work with. His personality is so full. He has given myself and my husband so much motivation when working on our home.
It's not always happiness and rainbows with him though. He has caused a bit of trouble when he feels the need to. When I first started working with him, I let him know immediately that my husband is autistic and has adhd while I have adhd and have minor hoarding tendencies. So we can struggle with simple chores sometimes. I was clear with what to expect from us as our household Spirit. And because of this, he sometimes needs to get creative. I had a bathroom mat that was so worn and used the bottom of it was peeling away and leaving rubber bits everywhere. I kept saying I should replace it but I just never did. Years I kept that same rug. A week into working with our Household Spirit that rug was nudged towards the bathroom trashcan, rolled up slightly, and just anyway he could he pointed myself and my husband towards getting rid of the old worn thing. We never did. Always getting distacted or forgetting about it. Until one day we went into the guest bathroom and the rug was stained beyond saving. Completely destroyed. This forced instant action. We couldn't put it aside and it gave me the push to actually toss it. Since then he hasn't acted so drastically. But even then, I appreciated his act as it was the final kick I needed to get rid of that rug.
The moral of this story is to say...
They know how to get a job done. Make sure to let them know they are appreciated, and they will make it worth your while. And remember, they aren't messing around.
Offerings
Food (ie. Bread, sweets, fruits, ect.)
Drink (ie. Wine, Water, tea, dairy, ect.)
Speaking with the Spirit: Saying “Hello” when you come home
Lighting a Candle
Coins and trinkets
Creating of getting an effigy/Idol for the Spirit
***Note for Brownies and Hobs- Although they wear rags or "peasant's clothes". Never give them clothes. It is an ultimate insult for them, and they will leave***
What does a Household Spirit do?
Helps clean your home- Both in a literal sense and in a spiritual sense
You can leave an offering to your House Spirit asking them to protect your home while you are away for long periods of time.
Bring good luck
Find lost things
Certain types are known to leave gifts- Kobold/Hobgoblin
Can be mischievous or down right evil if mistreated- Breaking items or stealing things
When moving away does a Household Spirit go with you?
Answer: Depends on the Spirit
Some House Spirits are more like a Household Spirit meaning family and not house specific.
Others like the Domovoy of Slavic folklore are a house specific spirit. Meaning, when you move that specific Spirit stays.
When leaving being a House Spirit (as the Domovoy) make sure to perform a Ritual of Thanks to show appreciation, allow the Spirit to understand why you are leaving, and so the House Spirit will treat the next family with respect.
If there are ever any questions about whether your House Spirit should come or stay don’t be afraid to ask. Sometimes, even just your intuition is an answer.
#witch info#info post#baby witch#baby witches#beginner witch#spirit work#house spirit#house spirits#witchcraft#witch#folk magic
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I just learned that Welt is likely 6'3 and as a small individual I'm slightly terrified but also... Ugh the thought of him leaning down for a kiss has me so whipped... Any ideas for that my friend? 👀
Hello!! A little while ago I was looking over the heights for Honkai characters and I realized that Welt and like half of the Hoyoverse men are all so tall it's unbelievable (╥﹏╥)
I’m also a small individual so I always imagine Welt bending down for pretty much any kind of kisses/hugs- Welt seems so sweet and I feel he would be extra sweet about this (˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) ✧
I hope you enjoy and I hope you have a fabulous day!!
Welt Kissing a Short!Reader
Warnings: Kissing, height difference/reader is shorter than welt
Genre: Fluff
Pairing: Welt x gn!reader
Word count: 800
Welt is the oldest resident of the Astral Express and is also the calmest of the other members. He acts as a mediator between his friends, often lending Himeko and Pom Pom a hand when managing the express and making sure Dan Heng gets a break from March’s excitement. He’s a deeply respectful man who holds the people he cares about close to his heart and wants everyone to stay safe and content above all else. He cherishes you, and his main priority has become your protection and happiness.
So, he wouldn’t be much of a tease when it comes to your height. Welt loves every part of you and he wouldn’t want to make fun of you for anything, even if you explicitly said you were fine with it. He doesn’t make a point of bringing it up or rubbing the height difference in your face, beyond casually mentioning it in conversation if the situation calls for it. He also knows that he is incredibly tall himself, and that pretty much everyone is small compared to him. That doesn’t mean he fully ignores it though- secretly, he thinks your height difference is adorable.
His height and strength grant him the ability to scoop you up in his arms to hug you or carry you wherever you need to go. He does this more often than one might think, but you don’t mind. But above all else, he loves kissing you. To him, it’s like a promise of love and protection, and the look in his eyes shows that he’d give you the entire universe if you asked for it. It may sound old fashioned, but there’s just something extra romantic about it for him, something that leaves him with flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, and a pounding heart.
Often, these kisses take place on the express or away from other people. But if you want one when you’re out on a mission, he’ll get more flushed and decomposed than usual, but will still happily oblige. In truth, he's just happy that he gets to kiss you at all since you’re undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire galaxy.
Welt can’t keep his eyes off you.
He's been trying to focus on stargazing out of the Express’ expansive windows, but even the stars couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to you.
It doesn’t help that you’re standing next to him, marveling at the luminary masterpieces that dot the void of the galaxy, entirely unaware of his staring. Your eyes are full of light and hope, lips parted slightly as the light of the stars reflects in your irises. Welt’s heart swells at the sight- it always does whenever he sees you happy. A loving smile blooms on his lips as takes a small step closer to you, discreetly taking your hand in his.
His fingers gently lace with your own and the warmth of his skin envelops your palm. Your attention on the vast constellations is broken then, and your awestruck gaze meets his. You return his smile and squeeze his hand comfortingly, heat rising up your neck from how gently he’s looking at you. He cups the side of your face, a deep chuckle vibrating through his chest as he bends over slightly so he’s level with your eyes. He leans in and captures your lips with his, cradling the back of your head to pull you closer, hands light and careful on your body as if you’re made of porcelain.
His eyes remain dazed and half-lidded while yours flutter shut, neck straining slightly as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. When you break away, Welt smiles, his cheeks heated and red as you open your eyes and gaze lovingly at him. He pulls you against him affectionately, turning back to look at the stars. You close your eyes again out of comfort as his hand rests on your waist, wrapping your arms around his torso and leaning into him in response. He leans down again to press a kiss to the top of your head, palm soothingly running up and down your side.
No, Welt doesn’t mind leaning down at all, not if it means he gets to kiss you. Your touch means more to him than the blessings of any Aeon, and there is nothing he wouldn’t do to feel your lips on his once more. When you’re on missions and apart for long periods of time, Welt wallows in the memories of your kisses, desperately wanting to bend over and pull you close and crash his lips onto yours, even if he knows it’s impossible due to your absence.
He knows you’ll come back though, you always do. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.
And when you do, he knows he’ll have the chance to kiss you, making his heart and soul feel complete again.
#welt x reader#welt yang x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr#fluff#hsr x reader fluff#welt x reader fluff#honkai star rail x reader fluff#welt yang x reader fluff
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Are y'all ready for this?
Leon Kennedy x Male!Reader [Ansgt]
Warning; SPOILERS, mentions of blood, wounds, knives, gun, violence, all that stuff, horrible English and bad pacing. Long chapter, 8.5k words.
Masterlist.
next part »»»
Resident Evil 4
(M/n) stumbled as he got back on his feet, the wound above his brow was gushing blood very rapidly, making him grow dizzier the longer it passed. He blinked a couple of times, trying to focus his sight ahead, his feet struggling to make him stand up again, his arms trembling as they pushed his torso off the ground.
Grunting in pain, (M/n)'s blurry sight was soon met with a pair of military combat boots, he gritted his teeth as he refused to believe this is where he dies, under the hands of the man he once trusted with his life.
"Poor, poor lieutenant," the man bent his knees and reached his hand to hold (M/n)'s chin in his hand, the sadistic glint in his eyes made (M/n)'s stomach turn, watching how his smirk grew wider, "Time to say goodbye."
The last thing he saw was Krauser's fist inching closer to his face at an alarming velocity, and if even he wanted, he couldn't dodge the punch that landed on his face, knocking him unconscious soon after.
//////
The feeling of his head throbbing woke him up, but he couldn't open his eyes, and he couldn't move either. The swinging of his body side to side made him realize that he was being carried like a potato sack, hearing the quiet humming of Krauser's voice as he took him somewhere he didn't know.
The sound of a big door reached his ears, soon entering a room with a nice echo, it sounded like the room was pretty much empty, and (M/n) still continued trying to open his eyes, tried to fight Krauser's grip off his body, but it was useless, his body was numb, his head throbbing, he couldn't feel half of his face and he definitely didn't have the energy or strength to take on Krauser at the time.
So he stayed there, completely quiet, trying to remain somewhat conscious.
"Where'd you want 'im?" Krauser asked to someone in the room with them, and (M/n) was frightened for a moment, they hadn't made a single sound so they never made themselves present to (M/n)'s hearing.
"Over there," a raspy, horse voice said, and Krauser groaned a positive response as he continued to take him away to wherever he was taking him. The squeaky sound of wheels echoed in the room, and he soon was laid on what he recognized as a hospital gurney, then footsteps getting closer to him after Krauser walked away got him on edge.
"It's time to join us, my child."
He felt something sharp and cold pressing against his neck, pressing until it pierced the soft skin and he could feel how something slithered its way inside his body.
"It's just a matter of time before you become one of us," he felt an icy cold hand pressing against his forehead, moving his hair away, before turning around and leaving him all alone in that cold room.
He's not sure for how long he remained conscious, but he ended up giving up on keeping himself awake.
//////
The car ride was silent as he looked out the window, getting a view of the place he was approaching.
His mind raced over the same words, like a song getting stuck in your head, one that you can't get rid of.
"Whilst rescuing the president's daughter is your main priority, the higher-ups want you to get any idea as to what happened to Lieutenant Colonel (L/n), Leon, can you do that?" He had responded that he will do what he can, but he knew he was gonna go look for whatever he needed to know his superior's whereabouts.
He heard both cops talking amongst themselves, understanding bits and pieces of their conversation, it varied from paperwork, annoying superiors back at the office, football, and then him, but Leon just ignored them, remembering that he was gonna be dropped off near where (M/n) had his last communication before going M.I.A.
Images flashed across his mind, all the moments he got to spend time with (M/n) when he had just been recruited, yet being assigned under Major Krauser's command to assist his training. It had been a while since he saw any of them, being occupied with their own missions and tasks ahead. One of which he was assigned after (M/n)'s sudden dissaperence almost two weeks ago.
He was just hoping that he was still alive, even if Leon knows how capable (M/n) was of taking care of himself, something didn't sit right with him about the whole situation.
And damn, sometimes he wishes to be wrong about his gut feelings.
//////
Krauser walked into the camera room where Saddler had been observing the American forastero killing everyone in sight, no second thoughts about them, and Saddler was incredibly mad about it, not caring anymore if he had also been blessed and was allowed to carry the same sacred body as them.
The scarred blond observed the cameras and recognized that "precious" rookie of (M/n)'s.
"So that bastard was sent here, huh?" Saddler turned to look at Krauser, who leaned against the door frame, looking into the screen with hatred burning in his icy blue eyes.
"So you know who he is?" Krauser scoffed, and glanced back at (M/n) who was laying on the same hospital gurney, completely immovable as he stared seemingly into the void. He had turned into nothing but a lifeless puppet, and yet, his body hasn't shown signs of La Plaga spreading.
But it was there, especially noticeable when Saddler talked to him, his eyes would turn bright red, and black veins would crawl up his neck momentarily, before returning back to his catatonic self.
"That bastard," Krauser pointed at the screen where Leon was shown, "Was that bastard's favourite recruit," he continued nodding his head toward (M/n), "Makes me sick," he grunted with gritted teeth.
Saddler looked at (M/n) and observed the images la plaga had copied from the parts of his memories it's managed to gather, and he witnessed from (M/n)'s eyes how much he cared for that young man, always there to guide and help him, providing the comfort he longed for.
"Ooh, how amazing it'll be," Krauser looked at Saddler with a questionable look on his face, "To betray that trust..." He spoke while walking closer to (M/n), "Take him to that forastero, he'll be the ace under my sleeve."
Something about the thought of having (M/n) against Leon made him almost burst out laughing, moving to stand right next to Saddler, as he started controlling (M/n)'s movements, maintaining eye contact with his now red eyes.
"Your new mission... Is to kill Leon Kennedy, child," (M/n) stood up with wobbly legs and bowed to Saddler.
"Yes, sir."
His new order had reached la plaga inside him, being taken away by Krauser as soon as Saddler allowed him to.
//////
Leon was beyond stressed, but he was still determined to complete the mission, but right now, he had to find Ashley, maybe on his way to her he'll be able to get a better lead on what had happened to (M/n).
He just hoped that the ride in the underground mines with Luis could help him with that.
The lift ride was quick, and somehow a blur to Leon, since the first thing he saw when he turned around was Luis falling on the ground, the silhouette of a muscular man approaching him as he crouched to pull the dagger out of Luis' back.
The encounter with Krauser was anything but pleasant, yet somehow his body was able to remember his attacking and blocking patterns, including the one movement that (M/n) taught him to be able to win against Krauser in a 1v1 fight.
And the scarred blond wasn't happy about it. He scoffed and frowned, jumping and landing behind Leon quicker than he could react, but before he could remotely get closer to his vital point, the sound of a gun being fired caught them off guard. They both turned and saw that Luis had gathered enough strength to take his gun out and pull the trigger to save Leon, Krauser let out a dry chuckle and retrieved his dagger, jumping and landing on an elevated surface, about to return the way he came before stopping and glancing down at Leon over his shoulder.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" He chuckles again, but it's a sinister chuckle that makes Leon grip the handle of his pistol on instinct, "I left a gift for you, rookie, you better find him quickly, the clock is ticking and the oxygen is running out," with a boisterous laugh he left.
Leon ran toward Luis, spending his last moments with him, watching as he exhaled his last breath, the lit cigarette falling out of his parted lips, the lit end landing on the pool of blood that had formed underneath him, turning itself off.
Placing Luis' lighter back in his its hand, Leon said goodbye to the Spanish male and took a deep breath, standing up and looking around the place he was.
Krauser's words resonated in his head again, the vague mention of a 'him' being here, as a gift for him...
Leon had no idea how long had Krauser been in Spain, but if his gut feeling was right again, then he must be-
"(M/n)?!" He screamed whilst he ran around looking everywhere he could think of, "Where could he...?" He stood still and his eyes caught sight of a pile of scattered crates, and one stood out the most. It was slightly bigger than the others, but it also had 'LEON' engraved on the wood, obviously done with a sharp object. Like a knife, or a dagger, "Lieutenant!" He screamed once again, running toward the wooden crate as fast as he could.
He rushed to push off the smaller crates on top of the lid, his hands trembling as he opened it, observing the poor state (M/n) was in.
"Sir!" Leon struggled to pull (M/n) out of it, falling on the floor with his arms wrapped around him, "Sir, sir!" He yelled as he sat up, shaking his superior with a desperate tone in his voice, " Please, wake up!"
As he came back to life, (M/n) took a sharp breath in, coughing some dust and dirt that had gotten in his mouth and nose, his hands gripping onto Leon's chest strap and skintight shirt.
Looking up, (M/n) made eye contact with Leon's worried eyes, a glint of relief at seeing him alive and in his arms.
"Leon...?" (M/n)'s voice was grumble-y and hoarse, blinking slowly and looking at him as if he was nothing but a hallucination.
"Hello, sir, it's nice seeing you again," he responded with a hint of a smile on his face, making him look even prettier than usual. His blue eyes trailed down (M/n)'s body, blushing a cute pink when he realized that his clothes were in a less-than-ideal shape. His shirt had ripped open where he could see knife cuts, showing off part of his abdomen and chest, the jacket he wore wasn't looking its best, but it seemed to be covering more ruptures in his clothing, which Leon was glad for.
This was definitely not the time nor place to be feeling like this about his superior.
//////
Every few meters they walked, Leon had to look back at (M/n) who didn't seem to be in peak shape, which he could understand after everything that he has gone through, he could imagine (M/n) going through worse until he found him.
And that lead him to the question... What happened to (M/n) after his last communication with base?
Hopping together in the fancy-looking cable car on their way to the clock tower, Leon stares at (M/n) as the male swung side to side very slightly, hardly noticeable, he almost seemed in a trance. "What happened, sir? When you came here?"
(M/n) blinked once, twice and his eyes opened wide, a wince leaving past his lips when he saw the images of what had happened. The images were blurry, and he could feel his blood boiling inside him, the knowledge of what was in him remained in his mind, something he was ordered to keep to himself by Saddler.
But why was he following his orders anyway?
That quiet thought was the first step to breaking the chain connecting him to Saddler through la plaga.
He clenched his jaw, closed his hands tightly, and approached the gold edge, leaning over to observe the night sky.
"I was following the lead to finding Ashley, and I met up with Krauser before I reached the village..." He trailed on because he wasn't exactly sure what happened after that, "He... He ambushed me and took me away, I don't remember much after that," he looked back at Leon, who was frowning at the information provided, "Sorry, Leon."
Leon watched how (M/n) smiled at him, that same gentle and understanding, comforting smile he always showed him, his hand raising to slowly move a stray lock of blond hair away from his face. Something about (M/n)'s actions and the way he looked at him made his heart race, he just felt like when he first met the male, flustered, intimidated, and safe. A weird and odd combination of feelings, but (M/n) managed to cause those in him, and many more.
(M/n) had always treated him right back when he was first recruited for this "special agents" training, and whilst Krauser was the one beating the shit out of him until he learned, (M/n) taught him in a way that he was able to understand better, that's how he learned the move that could potentially help him win a 1v1 against Krauser, it just had to be done at the right time. That was another reason for Krauser to hate him more as the years passed, despite having (M/n) as his superior.
Krauser had seen (M/n) smiling down at Leon when the rookie had managed to pin him down with a move he recognized as (M/n)'s. He had seen countless times how (M/n) praised and was always nice to the blond rookie, who had managed to remain being his puppy self when he was around the (h/c) haired male.
Just like how he was right now. Leon had always heard nice words about (M/n), and he got to witness that firsthand during the first trainee evaluation. Every instructor was there, and so were their respective recruits, and of course, Leon saw (M/n) standing there, serious eyes observing every move they did, down to the smallest details and mistakes they did.
Unfortunately, Leon's team had an uneven number of recruits, so he was paired up with his instructor, Krauser, who realized what Leon was trying to do and went all out on him, which might've resulted in dark bruises, cracked and/or broken ribs.
Most recruits had already left to go and get patched up depending on the severity of their wounds, and every instructor stayed, observing how poor Leon got beat up so badly (M/n) had to intervene.
"Major Krauser," he spoke with the same harsh voice he used when scolding a reckless agent, "This is an evaluation, not a boxing ring, don't forget that."
Krauser grumbled a 'yes sir' and left the room, (M/n) dismissed all the other instructors in the room and kneeled in front of Leon, who was breathing rapidly with his arm covering his eyes.
"You did well, Leon," the blond male peeked at (M/n), whose expression had turned soft and gentle, the same way he always looked, "I have some lessons for you, but first, let me help you, okay?"
Ever since that day Leon came to him whenever he needed help with something and wasn't feeling like being beaten up by Krauser until he was forced to understand, so it was understandable that they became quite close, even going as far as to be Leon's bisexual awakening, especially since back then he had no idea Ada had survived Racoon City, so he figured moving on was the right solution.
The moment the cable car stopped, Leon snapped out of his thoughts, and they walked off it. They headed inside and barely made it past a big wooden door and a small staircase before Salazar showed up again, and all the infected in the clock tower began their attack.
After Leon found him inside that crate, they had noticed that a few of the small ones had opened the moment they fell, and some of (M/n)'s gear was there, even so, with the lack of magazines, Leon gave (M/n) some spare ammo he had in his pouches, silently agreeing on covering each other's back.
Whilst Leon made his way up the clock tower, (M/n) remained behind him, shooting and stabbing any infected that came up to them, and a part of him hurt whenever another body fell to the ground dead, la plaga inside him made him feel guilty of killing his "siblings" but there was a part of his brain that remained conscious and was fighting control over the parasite, reminding it that it was nothing but an intruder in his body.
"Lieutenant!" Leon called him catching his attention and making him turn around.
Leon was kneeling on the strange lift the clock tower had up on the higher levels, reaching his hand down to him as the platform got further and further away from the ground.
(M/n) ran toward Leon, jumping and holding his hand, reaching his free hand up to hold himself up, easing the task Leon had of pulling his body up.
They rode all the way up to the very top, as high as it reached, and by then, pretty much every infected was dead or dying. Leon ran ahead kicking a door open as he neared the edge, careful not to fall to the void as he took out his binoculars and looked out, mumbling to himself something (M/n) couldn't understand.
His head started throbbing and after closing his eyes tightly his legs gave out, far away enough for Leon to hear him grunting in pain.
"Kill him, child..."
Saddler's voice echoed in his head, and he slowly opened his eyes, black dots started to darken his vision, and he caught a glimpse of Leon standing near the edge of the platform. He could easily walk up behind him and push him off-
Groaning with anger, (M/n)'s fist hit the metal floor, making an obvious dent in it, and his eyes observed the black veins disappearing from his hands.
"Fuck-" he muttered pulling the sleeve of his jack further down to no avail, that was as much as it reached, so he put his hands in his pockets and followed Leon as he called him.
"You alright?" Leon asked trying to look at (M/n)'s but he just avoided eye contact all together.
"Yeah... Yeah, don't worry about me, let's keep going."
Even with his words, Leon couldn't help but feel worried about (M/n)'s wellbeing, he wanted the male to rely on him, just like he does.
But perhaps, it's not the right time just yet.
//////
The encounter with boss Salazar was nasty, (M/n) gets shivers whenever he remembers his slimy tentacle-like appendages around him, which makes him feel disgusted. And then he remembers the pain he felt in his chest when he and Leon worked together to bring him down, something inside (M/n) was screeching at him to not kill one of theirs, but with his consciousness regaining control over la plaga's control he couldn't give two shits about Ramón, or Saddler.
Both of them broke a sweat fighting Salazar, but there was no time to rest, they had to save Ashley. That was still their mission.
They ride the lift down looking off into the distance, where an island was visible in the distance, despite the fog surrounding it.
They hopped off and found a motorboat, but no keys nearby, and you hear a female voice behind you.
"Looking for something?"
The moment (M/n) turns around, he sees a gorgeous woman with Asian features, short black hair, a tight red dress, and long leather boots, along with all the gear she had on her body.
"Why am not surprised, Ada?" Leon's words made (M/n) glance at them back and forth for a few seconds.
That Ada? (M/n)'s mind flashes with the brief memory of Leon talking to him about Racoon City and everything that happened, including having met a woman named Ada that "helped" him but in reality, she just used him for her own benefit, and well, how he had caught some feelings for her, but he wasn't sure if he actually loved her or anything.
And he remembers the small detail that she fell to the void and died, it seemed like she was in better condition than both of them combined.
"Let me take you, gentleman," she said lowering her gun and getting in the motor boat, turning the engine on and glancing back at them, "You coming or not?"
(M/n) and Leon looked at each other and sighed before jumping in and sitting down. (M/n) remained in the back, looking away and enjoying the feeling of the cold water hitting his skin, it helped him cool down the burning feeling he felt going through his veins, and it cleared his mind, as if the fog clogging his memories was finally dissipating.
He could hear Ada and Leon's voices, muffled by the wind in his ears, and the sound of the engine roaring behind him. Yet soon enough, the boat stopped and Ada stood up while shooting her grappling hook, (M/n) glanced away before he began staring at the woman's body and released a yelp when the boat shook as she left them alone.
(M/n) stood up when Leon stabilized the boat and sat next to him, hearing him sigh and mumble under his breath, "Women."
He had to hold in a chuckle, and soon Leon continued driving into the island, finding a place where they could get off easily. The short time they spent together was nice, despite the silence, it was a comfortable silence, unlike how it was when Ada was present.
"Well... Let's find Ashley," (M/n) said as he got off, reaching his hand out for Leon to grab onto. The blond looked at him from his position and showed him a small smile, holding his hand as (M/n) helped him step on the island.
//////
The journey to find Ashley definitely wasn't an easy one, running around the military facility and underground, trying to find the way that would let them continue on, it was more mentally exhausting than it was physically.
But eventually, as they continue their way forward, they arrived in a room upstairs that has a direct view of the room. A room where Ashley was kept, passed out on a military bed.
Stuff got a terrifying turn after that.
(M/n) and Leon found files that talked about an experiment with la plaga on people, called 'regenerators', and how one had escaped its cryogenic tank and gone wild. Along with that, there was valuable information about upgrading the key card to be able to find what was needed and get to Ashley.
Leon was busy reading a file when they heard the sound of the automatic door opening, and neither of them had moved from their spot, so they instinctively pulled out their weapons, the light of their flashlight shining brightly onto the humanoid creature, freaking out at the sight of it.
"What the fuck is that?!" Leon exclaimed emptying his magazine on it, and they both watched how that thing started releasing some sort of smoke or steam, and the pieces of flesh missing grew back on its jiggly body.
"Leon, run!" (M/n) drew his knife just in time as the regenerator extended its arms at them, releasing out a loud screech as it's arms were cut off, (M/n) held Leon's wrist and ran out of the room, dragging the blonde with him. (M/n) tried to convince Leon to separate as a way to cover more ground quicker, but Leon refused, he didn't want to have (M/n) out of his line of vision, which was understandable.
Unfortunately for them, there were more of those things around and while Leon was working on upgrading the key card to level two, a regenerator sneaked up behind (M/n) while he was busy shooting the two ahead of him, and he got grabbed his pistol falling from his hands as he struggled against it's grip.
"Let go of me, motherfucker!" He yelled in rage, unable to break free from its strong grasp.
"(M/n)!" He heard Leon's voice calling him from inside the room he was in, but he was also having issues with one of these creatures, so he could only watch how (M/n) got taken away while he remained locked up in that room, "Fuck-" He got rid of his anger and impotence by unloading the shotgun shells on the regenerator, exposing what appeared to be its weak points.
//////
(M/n) decided that struggling was futile, there was no point in it, so he just let himself get taken away by the regenerator.
He got locked in a dark room, he couldn't see anything, and the emergency lights didn't reach the area, so he had no idea where he was, and yet, he didn't care, the burning feeling of his blood surging through his veins let him now that Saddler was using him again for his own selfish benefit.
"Why haven't you killed him yet?" His voice was calm and understanding, but the way it echoed in his mind let (M/n) know that Saddler was all but calm about the current situation.
(M/n) had to think of something quick, he could feel wriggling inside him, his flesh and skin turning and pulsing, causing him great pain, but he clenched his jaw and pulled through it.
"We just have to be patient, my lord... The boy has to trust me blindly, there's... No way he's not suspicious of me, sir, just... Let me handle this, I'll... Get it done..." He struggled to replay whilst fighting the pain that the mutation was causing him, and for a moment, Saddler hummed, convinced of (M/n)'s words, having not felt a single trace of lies and betrayal in his body.
Without uttering another word, Saddler cut their link through la plaga, and (M/n) fell to the cold metal floor, regaining his breathing, and the screeching sound of a regenerator resonated behind him.
"Fantastic..." He mumbled, crawling away to somewhere he could hide for the time being.
//////
Stumbling his way past more regenerators, (M/n) found traces of Leon's path, like the broken wooden boxes, the dead bodies, and the scattered bullet cases on the floor, it made a fine trail toward the blond.
He ran down the hallway, and slowly approached the open gate, walking slowly and searching around for Leon's whereabouts, when he heard muffled voices of a man and woman. He stumbled his way to the electronic gate and saw Leon helping Ashley get up from the bed, her blue eyes locking onto (M/n).
"Who is that?" Leon followed her line of sight and saw (M/n) standing there, holding his side with his knife in his empty hand.
"(M/n)-" Leon rushed toward him and hugged him tightly, apologizing briefly when he heard the male groaning from the pain, "I was about to look for you, I was worried."
(M/n) smiled at the blond and released his side, lifting his hand to pet Leon's hair, giggling at the sight of his rosy cheeks and bright eyes.
"What can I say? I'm a tough cookie," he muttered and took a step aside, looking at Ashley who seemed taken aback by their interaction, (M/n) realized and took a step back, "But I'm fine, Leon, so don't worry."
Leon swallowed at the sight of (M/n)'s gentle smile, and nodded, reaching his left hand to his earpiece. (M/n) smiles at Ashley and nods his head as a greeting.
"Hello, Miss Graham, sorry we had to meet in such a bothersome circumstance," Ashley chuckled and shook her head, her bright blond hair swaying as she did so.
"No problem, we can always grab dinner when we go back home," her cheerful tone hurt (M/n), as it reminded him of the truth. Even if Ashley and Leon escaped, he had no hope but maybe... Just maybe-
His train of thought was interrupted when he heard Leon mentioning something about "removing the parasite" and for a moment he thought he got found out, that Leon knew he was infected, but just then (M/n)'s eyes noticed the black veins poking under the sleeve of his shirt, making their way down to his elbows, and glancing at Ashley, he noticed she also had signs of infection, the veins were really light colored, but they were there.
And now (M/n) was wondering how long they had until it was too late.
"Alright, let's go," Leon unholsters his gun and takes a step outside of the room before stopping for a moment, "Oh, this is yours, sir."
(M/n) watches as he takes his pistol out and hands it to him, well, no wonder (M/n) couldn't find it on his way back, so Leon had kept it...
That small, meaningless gesture shouldn't have made (M/n) feel giddy, it had no romantic meaning whatsoever so why did it cause this in him? Probably because of the small flame of hope in his chest saying that it had some sort of meaning other than being nice.
He took his pistol back and checked the clip, it was pretty much full, how it was when he dropped it.
"We can go now," Leon added and took the lead, (M/n) made Ashley walk in between them, as their bodies acted as a barrier to protect her from the infected.
//////
On their way to Luis' lab, Leon found himself feeling grateful that (M/n) was there with them, helping him protect Ashley whenever he couldn't, in other circumstances he would've had to leave her alone and he wasn't sure he would have been able to get out of that situation unscathed.
And now, Leon hopped on the wrecking machine and glanced back at (M/n) who stood still looking around them, trying to potentially find another way that would take less time, but right after the first hit to the wall with the wrecking ball, his eyes caught sight of hoards of infected.
"We got problems!" He yelled as he opened fire, and Leon rushed to his side when he got caught by an infected, kicking it away with full force, making it knock onto a few other infected behind him, (M/n) seemed surprised at the strength of Leon's legs.
Well, Krauser was the one who actually trained him, he just gave advice to the cute rookie.
Shooting the explosive barrels as they grouped up was making things easier for them, but not any quicker, however, the wall soon finally broke with a last hit and Leon helped Ashley get down whilst (M/n) moved some of the big debris out of the way and called the elevator that would take them to the top of the mountain.
On their way up, something went across (M/n)'s mind, something that made him zone out, tuning out any kind of conversation both blondes were having.
(M/n) walked right behind them, but he felt like a sensation of dejá vù, as if... He had been there before. And he has.
The moment he caught a glimpse of the amber and la plaga a piercing headache made his body tumble, gripping his skull as a loud ringing made him groan. Leon noticed and was about to turn around to help him up, when they heard Saddler's voice.
And Leon's mistake was shooting him.
The yelp that Leon released made (M/n) grit his teeth as he held onto the shelves to stand up, having some view of the scene through a piece of worn, tattered cloth.
He observed how Ashley's body was being controlled by Saddler, and (M/n) wasn't gonna let him get away with this.
"Saddler..." He growled with hatred, and he saw Ashley's body falter, obtaining more control over her actions.
"Do not resist, child," He said in what he called his "gentle" voice, Ashley whimpered small 'no's' as she was forced to pick up Leon's pistol, trembling hand holding it up straight at the blond agent.
"Please, no..." (M/n) groaned in pain, dragging his body forward, his anger and hate growing stronger toward Saddler.
"I won't... Let you..." Ashley's aim move farther toward Leon's left side, shooting one of Saddler's companions, and (M/n) watched how Saddler made Ashley point at Leon again, her body trembling even more, "Hurt them anymore..."
Pulling the trigger, Ashley shot the second companion behind Leon's right side, and the pistol clicked, and not because its clip was empty, rather because it jammed.
(M/n) fell to the ground away with a gasp, holding himself up with his shaky arms, his breath rapid and labored, his ribs painfully pressing against his lungs, cutting his oxygen supply.
While he was regaining his breathing back to normal, he heard the sound of a metal door closing and Leon's groan as he fell to the ground. "Leon...!" (M/n) tripped over his own two feet, slipping on the tile floor and pushing himself up, rushing toward the blond.
(M/n) helped him up, making sure he was okay, observing how the black vessel veins on his face started disappearing, and Leon got flustered at having (M/n) so close to his face, but he tried to focus more on getting up rather than the proximity (M/n) and he had, they had to get Ashley back, again.
//////
(M/n) had been stumbling his way behind Leon, traces of the headache he got early still remaining, and Leon was worried, making sure (M/n) was close by before resuming his path forward.
But (M/n) just told him to keep going, that he'll be fine soon enough, and Leon hesitated before doing as told. Well, only for a short while.
"I've been waiting for you, rookie," Krauser made himself known, and Leon couldn't help but glance at (M/n) who was leaning against the door frame he just walked through, trying to focus on what the scarred blond was saying but he just couldn't stop glancing at (M/n), watching how his body gave out under his weight, and Krauser realized, "Enough!" He exclaimed finally getting Leon's attention, "Let's settle this, rookie."
Before he could fully understand what was happening, Krauser had pulled out his weapon and bullets were flying toward him, making him crouch behind the broken pillars, finding cover whenever he could.
(M/n) could hear the sound of guns blasting, and knives colliding, his blurry sight making him feel slightly nauseous, but he had to help Leon, at least a little bit, Krauser was out of his mind and was definitely gonna kill Leon if the chance came up, this was no longer training, this was life or death. And he knew that Leon couldn't afford to focus on him right now, so he pushed through the pain, the burning feeling, and the fog clouding his mind once again.
But Saddler had other plans, briefly checking on Krauser, he saw him fighting Leon, so he knew (M/n) had to be close by, which he was. Saddler took care of (M/n) while Krauser finished his job, but keeping the male under his control was proving to be harder and harder the longer he did it.
Right now, (M/n) wasn't Leon's priority and he didn't want to become a bother for him, but he could help him out.
Gripping the walls and crawling across the floor, (M/n) saw how Krauser's body had mutated, he got closer to the edge and grabbed his pistol, raising his arms to hold it as steady as he could, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, aiming to Krauser's back, right next to his spine.
"Show me what it is that you got that I don't!" His booming voice seemingly echoed off the whole island, and keeping his hold on the pistol's grip, (M/n) muttered to himself.
"He's got me, Jack."
The bullet shot out of the barrel and hit its target right before it was too late.
Krauser had Leon pinned to the ground under his foot and his arm was ready to finish him, but before he could, the sharp pain he felt on his back was followed by a few more shots, until (M/n) ran out of ammo.
The scarred blond raised his arm toward the (h/c) haired male, "You should just die already! You're such a bother!" Krauser's rage distracted him from Leon, who stood up with his jaw clenched and his hand gripping onto his knife before running to him and stabbing him in the back. He hesitated momentarily before pulling it out and stabbing him again, the memories of Luis' body flashing in his mind and he wasn't gonna let Krauser kill the only person that had shown him some value in his life.
They watched as Krauser fell to the wooden planks, his dagger falling right next to him.
"Do... What you have to do," Leon glanced at it too, his breath slowly but surely evening out after that tough fight with his superior.
Leon picked up the dagger and briefly looked at his reflection before looking away, falling to his knees next to Krauser.
(M/n) slid down the pillar he was resting on, watching silently how Leon seemed to have an internal debate, hesitating and unsure about what he was about to do, but there was nothing that could bring Major Krauser back to normal. (M/n) knew how hard this was for Leon, after all, Krauser had trained him for years and had forged him into the man he is today, and he couldn't be more grateful that he had served under Krauser's commands, despite the asshole he usually was with everyone.
Holding his breath, Leon forced the dagger to pierce through Krauser's chest, rupturing his heart in the process.
"I trained you well... Leon," were Krauser's last words in between coughs, before falling limp back on the blood-stained planks, his blood seeping through the thin separation of each one.
(M/n) observed how Leon stood up and slowly walked away, giving his back to Krauser, his shoulders slightly rising with each shaky breath he took in, "That you did, Major."
Feeling his strength coming back to his body, (M/n) managed to stand up, his eyes landing on Krauser's military beret and he picked it up before making his way down to go back to Leon, climbing the ladder and making eye contact with blue eyes, glossy with tears.
Leon turned around when the door behind him started lowering, opening to let them in.
(M/n) leaned down, placing the red beret on Krauser's chest and saluting him, "Farewell, Major Jack Krauser. You served well." He said with a rough voice, ending his salute and following Leon who had stopped to glance back at Krauser's lifeless body.
Leon sees (M/n) stumble and grip his head with a groan, he obviously isn't doing good, but they can't stop to rest right now, they were running out of time. They had to keep moving and take Ashley back home safely.
//////
The glimpse of hope was fading.
(M/n) really thought they could make it on time when Mike arrived with his helicopter, helping them wipe out the enemies quicker, but right before they could reach the ladder to climb up, those disgusting bugs showed up, causing the helicopter to crash.
And standing menacingly before the erupting flames were Saddler, whose eyes were filled with rage as he looked down at (M/n), muttering to himself with spite.
"Traidor..."
After that, ignoring the uneasy feeling in his chest, (M/n) encourages and convinces Leon to go ahead on his own, that he's got his back and he'll be right behind him.
The moment (M/n) reached the double door he was done dealing with the infected, and he closed the door behind him, and he took a sharp breath in, hearing Saddler's voice echoing off the hallway. He ran toward them when he heard Leon's screams of pain, reaching his hand to his knife and throwing it at Saddler, watching how it landed on his chest, but before he could anything to him, the echoing sound of bullets firing from a submachine gun caught his attention.
Ada was there.
"Go!" She yelled at them and (M/n) didn't waste time to help Leon up on his feet and pick up Ashley.
"This... Way..." Leon mumbled pulling on (M/n)'s arm as he tried to not put all his weight on the male, despite barely being able to walk on his own.
They made it past the rock arc and one of the statues collapsed behind them, blocking the path.
(M/n) saw Leon trying to walk on his own, but he rushed to him, placing one knee on the ground while still holding onto Ashley, "Hold onto me, Leon," the blond wanted to refuse, seeing (M/n) already carrying Ashley was enough for him, "Leon... Please, just do it..." His quiet plead made Leon frown, placing his arm around (M/n)'s shoulders, his free hand grabbing onto his bicep, "Good boy."
Reaching the map on the wall, Leon and he observed the way they had to go, and the whole way there, Leon was grunting and muttering things (M/n) couldn't quite understand, the black vessel veins covering most of his skin, fighting the control of la plaga. And damn, (M/n) has never hated laboratory facilities more than ever in his life, the hallways seemed almost endless as he felt Leon's grip on his arm getting worse.
And yet, finally, he could see the door.
"Leon, we're here," momentarily, he lowered Ashley's lower body, his now free hand keeping Leon steady as he opened the door and the blond stumbled his way to the machine as (M/n) walked in behind him, placing Ashley on the gurney, "You're okay?" He asked Leon who simply nodded, turning the machine on.
Closing his eyes at the screams Ashley released, (M/n) tried to distract himself for a moment, and a file caught his attention. He quickly skimmed through it, understanding that an already hatched egg had a period of a week before it couldn't be removed anymore, or it would kill its host.
(M/n) didn't have a long time to assimilate what he just read because from the corner of his vision, he realized how Leon's body was swaying, and he soon started falling unconscious.
"Leon!" He yelled and ran, sliding through the floor as the blond fell on him instead of the hard floor.
He sat up, his arms wrapped around Leon as he waited for one of them to wake up, but the male in his arms started shaking, his body convulsing as the black veins extended even more across his skin.
"Shit...! Ashley!" (M/n) reached his hand up to shake the girl awake, still holding tightly onto Leon in a futile way to help him calm down.
After the third rough shaking, Ashley woke up, hearing grunting and growls, along with rapid breathing and a voice other than Leon's, looking down to her left she saw (M/n) looking up at her with glossy eyes and a convulsing Leon in his arms. She rushed off the gurney, slightly dizzy for getting up so abruptly, and silently helped (M/n) lay Leon on the gurney she previously was on.
"Remove the parasite...! There's not much time left," (M/n) said as he struggled to keep Leon's body steady whilst Ashley got the machine working again.
Both of them endured Leon's screams and watched him writhe in pain as the parasite was removed from his body too.
The moment it ended, (M/n) fell to his knees next to him, hearing Ashley's boots clicking as she walked around the room.
"(M/n), I think I found something," she said walking closer to him, showing him a crumbled paper with markings in red. It was obviously a map, and it was marking their way out of the island.
"Well done, Ashley," (M/n) smiled up at her and she blushed a bit at the genuine praise.
Now they just had to wait for Leon to wake up.
//////
Ashley and (M/n) follow Leon's lead as he guides them forward on their way out, but as they arrive at the elevator, Leon stops them.
"Stay here, it won't be long," he tells Ashley who nods before turning toward (M/n), "Take care of her in case something happens."
(M/n) nodded too as they watched Leon descending.
Both of them watched how Leon got Ada down and how Saddler showed up, their hearts racing as they started feeling worried about Leon. But they didn't have anything to worry about, or well, at least for now.
As the fight against Saddler dragged on, (M/n)'s body started to feel weak, and soon he was no longer able to stay up, his legs giving up on him as he ended up falling against the things on the edge, making them fall off to the water.
"(M/n)!" Ashley screamed and held his hand before he could also fall into the ocean, dragging him toward the opposite wall. She continued to watch as (M/n)'s condition got worse, his body trembling before it started convulsing, just like how Leon was a short while ago.
Glancing back down at Leon, Ashley watched how he was fighting a version of Saddler that reminded her of a deep sea creature, the fight seemed pretty even, but she was also seeing how Leon seemed to be having some sort of superpower... Then again, she has seen Leon taking nasty hits and brushing them off like it was nothing, so she wasn't that surprised.
And now Saddler was gone for good. But (M/n) had also stopped moving, which worried her, and she made her way down to Leon, groans left her mouth as he struggled to drag (M/n) propped on her back.
"Leon!" The blond turned around after looking at the little teddy bear charm on the key Ada threw at him, and he was instantly worried, rushing forward to Ashley as he got the weight off of her, holding (M/n) up like he held him before.
"What happened?" Ashley shook her head, panicking.
"I don't know! He started convulsing and then he just suddenly stopped responding!" Leon was about to say something when a big explosion when off at the top of the mountain.
"We have go to, the island's about to blow."
Their ride down worked to bring (M/n)'s consciousness back slowly, his blurry sight focused on the metal floor under his feet. They got off the elevator and Ashley managed to dodge an infected going at her who fell to the ground and remained there, convulsing...
Ignoring the thought in their minds, Leon took them to the jet-ski he could see.
"Hold on, (M/n), we'll get you home," those words made his eyes open wide, completely stopping in his tracks, catching Leon off guard, "(M/n)?"
"I can't..." Leon blinked confused at those words, he couldn't what? "I can't go back home, Leon."
Raising his head, both Leon and Ashley gasped at (M/n)'s appearance. His eyes were bright red and bloodshot, pulsing black veins had already covered him from head to toe and everyone knew that it was too late to save him now.
"Just go, get home safe..." Leon shook his head, stubbornly refusing to allow himself the pain of knowing he lost (M/n) again, and this time, forever.
"No! No...! You're coming with us, we can... We can find someone- something that could help you- there has to be something that can be done-!" (M/n) held Leon's face in his hands, his icy cold touch contrasting with Leon's hot and sweaty skin.
"There's nothing that can help me, Leon, not anymore," he heard a distant explosion and he knew it was time to say goodbye, "But remember this..." He brushed his hair away from his face gently, his free hand reaching up to the chain around his neck, pulling it and breaking it, "I'll always love you, okay?"
Feeling a knot in his throat, (M/n) leaned closer and place a short kiss on Leon's slightly parted lips, his hand reaching for an empty pocket where he could place the now broken necklace.
"Live a happy life, Leon."
He said before gently pushing Leon, who fell on the jet-ski, where Ashley held him to prevent him from going after (M/n) who was making his way back to the elevator.
"No! (M/n)...!" The soul-breaking scream that echoed under the island was gonna be one that no one would ever forget, especially (M/n) as he was only able to witness the island collapsing on itself, praying during his last moments that Leon and Ashley make it back home safe.
//////
Leon found it hard to talk to Hunnigan on their way back until she told him she was sending a chopper to their coordinates asap.
He moved his hand to rub his right shoulder when he felt something slightly poking out of one of the pockets of his vest.
He grabbed it and immediately recognized it as (M/n)'s locket, he always had it with him, and said it brought him good luck.
He took a deep breath and opened it, his eyes filling with tears he looked at the picture and the message engraved on the inside.
'Live to be with him' it said and next was the first picture they had taken together, and he couldn't contain his tears anymore.
"Hunnigan..." He whispered, waiting for her to reply back, "I found Lieutenant Colonel (M/n) (L/n), he... He died saving us."
Hunnigan was speechless for a moment, "I'll... I'll let the higher-ups know, Leon."
He hummed and the call cut out, as he gripped the locket tightly in his hand, promising to himself that he will continue living to keep (M/n) alive, through his memory.
++++
I have a possible happier ending for this, but it depends
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x male reader#re x reader#re x male reader#re4 x reader#re4 x male reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy angst#resident evil 4#resident evil angst#resident evil leon#re4r#male reader#x reader#reader insert#angst#.mackjlee9 writes
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